


Two can keep a secret

by Fleur_de_Lure



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Female Kurosaki Ichigo, Other, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26356672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleur_de_Lure/pseuds/Fleur_de_Lure
Summary: Kisuke's been bored for decades, until he takes a mission out into the Rukongai and finds a fascinating woman killing Hollows with a sword she absolutely shouldn't have. Before long he's enamored with her, her family, and the chance she presents for a far more interesting future then he'd ever thought he'd have. However, not even Seireitei remains stagnant forever.ORKisuke finds Fem!Ichigo living out in the Rukongai and the rest is history.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Comments: 149
Kudos: 546





	1. Snapdragon - Fascination, Protection from Evil, Deception

Sometimes it felt as though Kisuke had been bored for decades. The weeks and months and years all blurring together into a pale canvas of life that not only fails to capture his interest, but which can’t even keep his attention for long. Work is repetitive, training is stagnant, and nothing has proven challenging in years. So when the mission request lands on Kisuke’s desk he scans through it passively, already planning to pass it on to Hiyori to assign out before he’s finished reading the mission outline.

It seems at first a standard request to clear out a hollow or two causing trouble in one of the mid districts of Rukongai, not something his division does often but also not something they can get out of being assigned to occasionally. A small line near the end of the mission objects arrests his attention though.

_Determine the cause of the increasing gatherings of Hollows in East 42 nd District and report back._

This is probably why the mission was diverted to his division. Hollows don’t gather in Rukongai. They rarely gather at all, but slipping in to Soul Society from Hueco Mundo is difficult for one Hollow to manage. Typically to enter Soul Society a hollow must be either disproportionately powerful or manage to make it through one of the semi-natural tears between worlds that sprout up occasionally as spiritual energy twists and tears throughout the two worlds.

It’s, not _interesting_ exactly. Probably it’s just the result of a slightly larger and longer sustained than average tear between worlds, easily found and remedied. The lack of urgency in the report is interesting however. There are no accounts of mass slaughter or destruction coming out of the area, and yet it’s been going on long enough to catch Seireitei’s attention.

Kisuke considers his options. He could assign it to someone and then ask them to deliver a report to him immediately, just to assuage his curiosity. Or, he could go himself. It’s certainly not a mission that requires a captain, it could probably be left to even his 20th seat or even a small contingent of unseated officers, but Kisuke is _bored._ Idle. He has nothing more pressing than the paperwork Hiyori is always hounding him for and the lab results Mayuri is constantly sending him in one hundred page reports.

Neither of which Kisuke is particularly enamored with reviewing.

Kisuke looks to the clock hanging over the door of his office. Not quite nine in the morning yet. If he left now he could make it to the 42nd district around three in the afternoon using shunpo. Anyone else he’d send would probably have to rest partway there and arrive the next day. Put that way Kisuke is clearly the best choice to go. Never mind that he technically has duties here and shouldn’t just be running off to Rukongai on a lark.

Choice made Kisuke gathers up the rest of the requests on his desk to dump onto Hiyori, shrugging off his haori to throw over his desk chair. It’s too annoying to run in and he’d rather not advertise to everyone in Rukongai that he’s a captain. He pulls a small bag out of a cabinet, an emergency bag he never got out of the habit of keeping even after his ascendency to captain. He snatches up Benihime from her resting place, feeling her excitement at the prospect of slaying hollows.

Carrying the bag and the paperwork he barges into Hiyori’s office without knocking, mostly because she still rarely knocks on his door. Unfortunately, Hiyori isn’t there to witness this act, her office empty and desk clear. The window is open and he can hear her down in the training yard leading morning exercises and berating people for slacking. Kisuke sets the work onto her desk before hastily scrawling a note across the top one.

“ _Gone to East 42 nd. Be back soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”_ He signs it with a heart, because Hiyori will hate it.

That task completed Kisuke climbs out the window and takes off towards Seireitei’s gate

Kisuke stops in once in East 23rd for a break and lunch, purchasing it off a stand in the town he finds himself in. The locals are exceptionally polite, rarely seeing Shinigami this far out. The food is tasty, more expensive than he’d find in Seireitei, and less nutritious. Food in Seireitei, and the first ten or so districts, tends to be specially cultivated to more efficiently replenish reiryoku. It’s enough however, and Kisuke isn’t close to becoming exhausted, so he continues on without a problem towards his target.

Slowly but surely the buildings are becoming a bit more rundown and the clothes on the people plainer and older. The mid districts aren’t bad to live in really, when Kisuke had been a child he would have been happy to live in one of them rather than the out district he did, but the wealth and excess of the clans and Shinigami and those that serve them are very conspicuously absent out here.

These are simple, middle class towns. Some people more well off than others, some less well off, but crime is seldom more than the odd theft or drunken brawl, families are common, and orphans are rare.

 _It’s peaceful here_ , thinks Kisuke, expanding his senses of the area. There are a few tiny blips of reiatsu, only noticeable because Kisuke is so good at reiatsu sensing. Towards the outskirts of town and the large misty forest that the distract derives it name from, Aomatsu, there is a larger blip, one that if developed might make a Shinigami someday. Kisuke lets himself drift closer to it, knowing that any hollow would be attracted to them first.

As he draws nearer to it, he suddenly senses a small group of hollows deeper in the forest, and with it someone with a vast reiatsu.

 _Another Shinigami?,_ he thinks to himself as he makes a beeline into the forest, _I don’t recognize it._ It feels too strong to be someone unseated, but Kisuke should find any seated officer’s reiatsu at least vaguely familiar even if he couldn’t recognize who it belonged to. The forest is dense, but it isn’t too long until Kisuke is hearing the screams of hollows and clanging of a sword.

He bursts into a clearing with three dead hollows, another three fighting someone to the left. For a moment he thinks he was right about it being another Shinigami, they’re holding what is most certainly a zanpakutou and he catches the flutter of a black sleeve as they twist in midair to strike at a hollow’s mask. As the figure lands and rotates out of the way of a large claw Kisuke sees that he’s wrong.

What he took for a shihakusho is instead black haori tied over a brightly patterned kimono that has been folded and tied above the knees as to not hamper the woman currently fighting. Long, sunset hair streams out behind her from a hair ponytail and bright red zori sandals with thick wooden soles tap sharply off the bone mask of one of the hollows as the woman uses it as a stepping stone to get above them. She’s remarkably light on her feet.

She swings out, sideways and manages to take out another of the hollows but as she falls, turning midair so that she might land on her feet the remain two each move to strike her. Kisuke can see her eyes widen as she begins to bring up her sword to try and parry, but he can tell she’ll be too late to avoid the blows. It’s the work of a moment and a thought to intercede, cutting off the arm of one with Benihime and sending out a quick Kido to knock the other back, letting the woman continue her descent unscathed. Without giving the hollows a chance to recover Kisuke quickly dispatches them before ending several meters away from the woman in the black haori.

She’s breathing only a little heavily despite having just fought and killed four hollows, something that even well trained Shinigami could struggle with, but her back is to Kisuke so he can’t tell if she’s wounded or not.

“Hello,” Kisuke calls out to her, sliding Benihime back into her sheath, “are you alright?”

She stiffens and turns on one of her red sandals, they remind him of his own precious Benihime, although the rest of her outfit his fussy sword spirit wouldn’t be caught dead in. Her sword, black hilt, black guard, black sheath, and glittering wickedly sharp silver blade is held securely in her hand. The woman makes no move to sheath it and Kisuke can’t help but be pleased. The woman’s eyes, warm and amber, narrow on him, moving between his eyes, hands, and feet, watching him warily.

“I’m fine,” she says, voice a little huskier than he expected given her slight form, although she stands taller than the average woman. “Thank you,” she continues, grudgingly.

“It was my pleasure,” Kisuke tells her, finding that he means it. “You’re not hurt are you? Well, not seriously hurt.” He can see a small gash on her left leg, over her ankle length tabi socks, blood from it has dripped down, staining the white socks red.

“I’m fine, this is nothing,” the woman pulls her leg back slightly and tilts her body so that her good leg is forward. Her haori, a men’s one from the cut of the sleeves and how large it is on her form, isn’t just black as he first though, a design of an embroidered red cord twines around the collar and down the open front of the jacket.

“I could heal it for you, if you’d like,” Kisuke offers, he takes a small, half step forwards and watches as the woman tenses. “My name is Urahara Kisuke, I’m a Shinigami from Seireitei.”

“I know that, Shinigami-san. You all dress alike,” she tells him, shaking her head. A charm dangles from a flower hairpin she’s wearing, three small enamel strawberries. Kisuke wonders where she got it, if it was a gift.

“Well, it is the uniform. I don’t mind it too much, makes it easy to get dressed in the morning when I’m running late,” he jokes. “What is your name?”

“I would rather not tell you that, Shinigami-san.”

“Why not? I promise you I’m harmless.”

She snorts in laughter, clearly disbelieving, and raises a delicate eyebrow at him.

“Alright, you got me, but I swear I mean you no harm.” Kisuke holds up his hands slowly, trying to prove it to her.

Kisuke isn’t quite sure why he’s trying so hard to reassure the young woman. Normally he would have left by now, uninterested in making nice with a stranger, but something about this young woman fascinates him. Maybe it’s the fact she carries a zanpakutou despite clearly not being a Shinigami, maybe it’s the ridiculous reiatsu he can still feel in the air, maybe it’s the woman’s sharp and wary nature. He isn’t quite sure, but it’s _interesting_.

A crash behind him draws his attention away, a branch that had been damaged during the fight finally pulling away from its tree entirely to fall to the forest floor. His focus is only off the woman for a brief moment but when he turns back she’s gone. He can trace her running away and without really thinking about it follows immediately.

While running Kisuke quickly considers what to do. He could catch her, easily, but she might lash out at him, and even though he’s certain he could restrain her without harm it wouldn’t get him what he really wants. No, what Kisuke wants is to _know_ , to learn as much about this woman as he can. In that case it’s better to follow her.

Kisuke tamps down his own reiatsu until it’s unnoticeable, wrapping it tightly around his bones so he can remain hidden, he then takes off after her using the tree branches to stay out of her sight while keeping her in his.

He’s struck by a thought he had earlier while she was fighting, that she was completely untrained. Drop outs from the academy aren’t completely unknown, although they should not be keeping their zanpakutou with them afterwards, but there is nothing in the woman’s movements that hint at training from the academy. The way she held the sword wasn’t bad, but it’s not what they teach to all the students and it didn’t match to what any of the clans taught either. The way she runs now too is odd. It’s not shunpo, it isn’t nearly as fast of as powerful, but she’s obviously boosting her speed using reiatsu somehow.

As he observes Kisuke slowly comes to understand that she’s launching herself forward with small bursts of reiatsu, and then softening her landing by spreading it out behind her, like wings on a bird as they swoop in to land. She does it all so smoothly that it just looks like a gentle, sinuous running pace, one that looks slower than it is as she quickly eats up the ground with her odd style.

 _It’s as if she saw someone use shunpo a time or two and then experimented herself until she got to this_ , Kisuke thinks, fascinated. He wonders if he could refine the method, make it faster, make it even more elegant.

After a few minutes of running Kisuke realizes the woman is taking a circuitous route out of the forest and back to town, clearly meant to shake pursuers.

 _Clever woman_ , he thinks, oddly proud. It would probably work on many Shinigami, except her reiatsu shines like a beacon. It’s clear to him that she’s trying to restrain it, keep it from spilling out, but she’s only having half luck with it.

Eventually, she exits the forest, pausing to look around, suspicious. Kisuke moves past her, hiding behind a small shanty on the edge of town.

“Okay… Okay… I think I lost him,” he hears the woman mutter to herself, her shoulders lower as tension leaves her. “Shit, I’m not gonna get any of those bounties.” She kicks at the ground as she speaks.

Kisuke knows about the Hollow bounties. They’re not uncommon in districts higher than the 30th. Shinigami are slow to be deployed out here and though the best spiritually active people tend to make their way to Seireitei some do linger in Rukongai. Those that do tend to take up bounty hunting, and Hollow bounties are the best of those.

However even in the reishi rich environment of Soul Society Hollows dissipate quickly after killing unless preserved in some manner, and to claim a bounty on a Hollow one needs to bring a piece of its mask for verification to a bounty office. By this point the Hollows in the woods have likely already vanished.

He feels a little guilty, Kisuke was the reason she ran off, leaving her well deserved prizes behind.

Then he feels surprised at himself for feeling guilty, unsure why he cares.

“Ugh, whatever,” he hears the woman growl before she turns around and sweeps off into town at a light jog, no longer using her odd form of reiatsu empowered running. As she enters and moves through town she mostly ignores the other residents, who also ignore her.

It’s unsurprising, spiritually active people are often seen as dangerous by the average souls in Rukongai.

Kisuke carefully keeps up while remaining unseen, an easy task, until the woman comes to a small multi-apartment building. She climbs to the second floor and then heads along the balcony towards the last door. Before she can open it however it’s thrown wide as two small forms launch themselves out it.

“Ichi-nee!”

“Ichi-nee-chan!” Cry two children, they look somewhere around eleven, although that doesn’t mean much with souls. “Are you okay? Did you kill the Hollows?”

They carefully wrap their arms around their older sister, avoiding the sword at her waist.

 _Ichi-san then?_ Thinks Kisuke as he hunkers down atop the roof of their building so he can watch the woman’s face. Ichi folds her arms around her sisters, returning their affection. Her face softens and the look she gives the girls is so fiercely full of love that it almost takes Kisuke’s breath away.

“I’m fine. And I did kill the Hollows, but I wasn’t able to collect the bounties. I got interrupted.” As she speaks she begins shooing the girls into the apartment, shutting the door behind them.

Kisuke crawls over the roof until he can lean down over the side of the building to a window. Slowly, he nudges it open, just a bit, easing himself back out of sight after he does. He wants to be able to see into the room but lacks a way to do so.

“Your leg!” One of the sisters cries, apparently noticing the injury for the first time. “Sit down, this needs to be cleaned immediately!”

“It’ll be okay, Yuzu, it’s just a scratch.” Ichi soothes although movement in the room tells Kisuke she’s doing as instructed.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t take care of it,” argues Yuzu.

“Wait,” says the other sister, “I wanna hear more about this weirdo, you sure he didn’t do anything to you Ichi-nee?”

Kisuke wonders if he should feel insulted being called a weirdo.

“No, I told you, it was just some Shinigami, Karin.” Ichi hisses then, probably from Yuzu cleaning her leg.

“You don’t think he’ll come after you, do you?” Karin asks, sounding worried.

“No, why would he be interested in me. I’m boring, Karin.” Ichi reassures her sister.

“That guy said everyone with a lot of reiatsu has to go to be a Shinigami. What if they take you?”

 _She’s not entirely wrong to be worried,_ Kisuke thinks. Technically a being like Ichi, with the amount of raw reiatsu she has, possesses two options once discovered by Seireitei. Either they join the academy and become trained, or they’re forced to enter into the Maggot’s Nest. Kisuke had met more than one person who’s main fault had been an abundance of talent and an unwillingness to use that talent for Seireitei during his time as warden.

If Kisuke does his job right he’d be reporting the woman immediately upon his return. She’s already managed to get her hand of a zanpakutou. He finds he doesn’t want to report her, but someone like her can’t hide for long. Kisuke’s sure that eventually she’ll wind up at the academy and he’s not completely against that result.

“I’m sure that won’t happen. I told you guys, I’ll never leave you.” The conviction in her voice sends a shiver down Kisuke’s spine and he knows that if Seireitei does learn of this woman’s presence they’ll send Shinigami after her, and she’d fight them to the bitter end.

This brave, beautiful woman who fights with a sharp ferocity that leaves him wanting to see more and who is clever enough to somehow get her hands on a zanpakutou and invent something like shunpo would throw herself against anything the Gotei 13 might send at her and Kisuke doesn’t want to see her lose.

 _Oh,_ he thinks to himself, sitting back on his heels and looking towards the slowly setting sun, _I like her._

In the back of his mind he hears Benihime laughing at him.

_Well, at least I’m not bored._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking: Fleur, don't you already have a WIP? And to that I say, let me live!
> 
> Like We Build These Roads this is un-beta'd because I know literally 0 people in this fandom, oh well.
> 
> As always please yell with me in the comments, it gives me that good good serotonin.


	2. Sunflower - Power, Warmth, Nourishment

Ichigo and her sisters have been dead for three years, at least she thinks it’s been three years. The first few months had sort of blurred together while the trio adjusted to their new world, but it’s been around three years, at any rate. They’ve worked hard and managed to squeak out a modest but relatively comfortable life in the district they randomly showed up in after their deaths, the three of them shaking and clinging to one another, the phantom smell of smoke lingering in their noses.

Except Ichigo is always hungry. She hasn’t been full since they got here, doesn’t remember what fullness feels like, even though she’s pretty sure they lived a good life back in the Transient World. Apparently, spirits that make it Soul Society forget most of their living life. There are a few memories remaining, mostly of people. Ichigo remembered her sisters, remembered loving them and caring for them, although specifics are long gone. She remembers a woman that looked a lot like her with a gentle smile and kind eyes, remembers that her name was Masaki and she died a long time ago and that it _hurt._ She remembers vaguely a man, loud and boisterous, remembers his name was Isshin and he tried at least. She remembers the ghosts, which now that she’s in Soul Society she realizes meant that even alive she had more spiritual pressure than she should.

Yuzu and Karin seem to remember a little less than she does, Ichigo wonders if it’s a product of age or of reiryoku. They, fortunately, have much less of it than she does. It keeps them safer, keeps them from being hungry. Yuzu only needs to eat about once a week, which is still more often than some but not often enough to catch attention. Karin does best if she eats once a day, but can go a couple without really feeling it.

Ichigo is never not hungry. Even in the times when they have extra money and Ichigo can have three meals a day she’s still hungry. One of the food sellers tells her that she should head to the lower districts, mentions that the food there is more filling for the spiritually active, but the lower districts also have more Shinigami, and they make Ichigo nervous.

Ichigo knows she’s powerful, and she knows that because she’s so powerful someone will want to control her. It’s not that she hasn’t thought about joining the Gotei 13. She’s positive she could make it through the academy, and she’s not completely opposed to what is essentially a military career. Except the academy is six years. Six years she’d have to leave Yuzu and Karin and she can’t do that. Even if they’d take Karin too Ichigo doesn’t want that, her little sister is far too young to be making those type of decisions about her life, and besides Ichigo would spare her from ever having to if she could.

No, better to stay out here in Aomatsu. As long as she keeps bribing the mayor he won’t rat her out to Seireitei and she can protect her sisters. And if the life is a little lonely and hard, well, that’s fine.

Finding the sword had been a stroke of luck. Well, for her, not so much for the dead Shinigami she took it off of. She was in the forest, collecting mushrooms after a day of rain for Yuzu who swore she could make something good out of them even though Ichigo had never been particularly partial to the taste, but beggars can’t be choosers. She heard the call of the creature before she felt it, sending shivers down her spine, and then the scream of a person.

Instinct had her running directly there, just in time to see the Shinigami fall and his sword almost seeming to shift a little as it slipped from a lifeless hand. The Hollow he had been fighting was smaller than she thought it would be, having heard stories around town, with an abundance of strangely jointed limbs and a long, whip thin tail. The Hollow launched itself at her as soon as it noticed her, muttering about how tasty she’d be. She barely managed to throw herself under its limbs, rolling across the ground to snatch up the abandoned sword, swinging out blindly behind her as she felt the creature rise up over her shoulder.

She wasted no time in scrambling away and then whipping around to face the Hollow, she managed to cut off two of its limbs but it was still up. A crack of its tail across her arm almost made her lose the grip she had on the sword and Ichigo grimaced as blood had rolled down her bicep. However, as the thing launched itself at her again she managed to leap up and over, higher than she should have been able to, and then bring the sword down on it’s head, cracking the mask in two and killing it.

She’d been surprised when she’d looked back down at the sword in her wavering grasp, it no longer looked as it once did. Slightly longer, with a black hilt and guard. Ichigo almost dropped it in her shock, and then again when a feeling of indignation washed over her that wasn’t her own. She’d hurried to grab the sheath off the body of the Shinigami, and then, feeling only a little bad for it, gently plucked his wallet out of his robes as well. That got her an approving sort of feeling, unsettling to experience.

She’d abandoned the body after that, unable to drag it with her while her arm was so injured, and not wanting to put that sort of attention on herself anyway. Surely someone from Seireitei would find it once he didn’t return home.

Instead she went home, carrying the sword with her because swords were useful here, and expensive. Having it means she could better protect herself and her sisters and the town they lived in, because relying on the Shinigami to do it seems like a bad idea.

Sometimes though, she feels as though the sword is making her crazy. Ichigo hears voices, harsh laughter and soothing whispers, things she can’t quite make out but wants desperately to understand.

She’s heard the rumors, same as everyone, that Shinigami talk to their swords, she just didn’t know that the swords talked back.

_Maybe I should have asked that Shinigami,_ she thinks to herself after another night of half remembered dreams of a sideways world and two shadow figures waiting for something.

That probably wasn’t the best idea though. She wasn’t supposed to have a zanpakutou, so bringing the man’s attention to it would be dangerous.

Ichigo groans as she rolls out of her futon, Yuzu and Karin both already up for the day. Yuzu is scrubbing laboriously at her socks from yesterday, no doubt trying to get the blood out, while Karin is sweeping the floor. Ichigo’s heart fills with love and pride as she watches them.

“Good morning,” she says softly as she stands. “Karin, you don’t have work today right? Should all three of us go to the market?”

The simple truth is that it takes all three of them to make ends meet in this place. Between rent, the cost of food, and the bribes she has to give to the mayor in order to stay in town they’re barely treading water some months. The bounties from those Hollows would have gone a long way to providing a cushion as the winter months creep up on them. The fuel for the heater is expensive.

Karin spends some hours each week helping at a small store that sold and repaired wooden furniture, working the counter or assisting with deliveries. The owner is a nice, older man content to ignore Karin’s sometimes brash attitude. Yuzu spends most of her time caring for the apartment and her sisters, but also repairing clothes and other fabric goods for people throughout the week, earning a small and unsteady income from the work.

Ichigo meanwhile does odd jobs when she can get them, and hunts bounties when available.

“If we’re lucky Shimizu-san will have marked down some of his produce. He always gets in too much,” Yuzu says, giving up on the stained sock with a sigh.

“You’d think he’d learn eventually, but I suppose it’s lucky for us he hasn’t,” Ichigo says as she starts to change.

“Are you sure you should be going out? What if that guy is still around?” Karin says, worried.

“The Shinigami never stick around out here for long. I’m sure he already left back home,” Ichigo reassures her. “We have nothing to worry about.”

* * *

Kisuke should absolutely be on his way back to Seireitei by now, should probably have left yesterday actually, but instead he’s here, stalking a young woman and her sisters roof top to roof top as they shop innocently in the market below.

He’d feel bad about it, but he’s long accepted his rocky relationship with things like ‘morals’ and ‘common decency’.

He’s in no rush to return to Seireitei anyway. Hiyori is sure to try to kick him and doubtlessly there’s paperwork waiting for his return. Better to push that off for as long as possible. Besides, much more interesting things await him here.

Ichi-san looks a little different today. She’s missing the overlarge haori, trading it out for a floral patterned kimono in bright, warm colors, worn long enough to brush the tops of her sandals. Kisuke can see spots where it’s been carefully mended, but it still looks nice, clearly cared for. Her obi, in a dusky red color, is tied in quite a complicated manner, Kisuke wonders if her sisters helped. Her hair is braided and pined up, the strawberry hair pin from yesterday keeping it back. She looks like she’s never held a sword in her life, and indeed she isn’t carrying the black blade today.

Kisuke easily spots the small knife hidden in her obi though. Ichi-san moves through the market cautiously, watchful. Kisuke approves of her awareness but she doesn’t think to look up at all. If she did she just might spot him lingering on the rooftops.

The market is crowded, Aomatsu prosperous enough that many people can afford to eat for fun so food stands and restaurants litter the street, along with stalls selling clothes and fabric, small tools and home goods, and even toys. People call up and down the street, laughing as they share news and gossip. With a keen eye Kisuke notices that many carefully avoid Ichi-san, stepping to the side around her. They don’t appear to give the children with her the same treatment, however.

Yuzu-chan and Karin-chan run up to stalls and haggle enthusiastically with the shop keeps. Occasionally, when they come to an agreement Ichi-san hands over the agreed upon amount, leaving the purchase to her sisters to be carried. They’re mostly looking at food, which doesn’t surprise Kisuke. Ichi-san must need to eat often given her reiatsu.

Kisuke’s attention slides off Ichi-san when he notices a man making a somewhat indirect but still obviously determined path towards the young woman. He bristles as he watches the man bump into her, slipping his hand into her obi to pull out her wallet while she’s distracted by his insincere apologies. Kisuke’s ready to leap down to retrieve Ichi-san’s wallet when the woman in question grabs the thief by the arm, twisting it up and back in an arm lock as she brings her entire weight down on the man to throw him to the ground.

He’s twice her size, maybe more than double her weight, but she keeps him pinned to the dirt road easily, trapping his other arm under their combined weight as she yanks the first up higher, pulling painfully on the shoulder and elbow.

“Give it back,” she demands as the crowd parts around her to stare.

“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” the man shouts, struggling unsuccessfully against her hold.

“No. Release it,” she hitches his arm up a tiny bit further as her knee digs into the man’s kidney. The man yelps in pain and opens his hand, dropping her wallet.

Kisuke is enthralled. She’s pinning the man so effortlessly, hasn’t broken a sweat and without a single hair out of place. It’s, startingly attractive.

And then he sees her pick his pocket in return. She distracts him first by twisting her knee into him and giving one sharp pull on the man’s trapped arm, and as she does so her other hand, originally pressed to the back of the man’s head, dips into his belt to gently lift his wallet, smoothly transitioning it to own obi before snatching up her wallet. She pushes the man one last time in the ground before hopping back off him. Kisuke is certain that the man didn’t notice a thing.

Ichi-san stands up, looking mildly inconvenienced more than actually angry. She barely spares the thief, still huddle on the ground holding his arm and spitting curses, a second glance before walking over to her sisters, letting them slip hands into her own.

The trio head off towards the other end of the market, letting the crowd swallow them up, but Kisuke leaps off the roof of the building he was spying from, landing on the back of the thief right has he moves to stand up. A sharp crack tells him that he managed to break the man’s arm as he sends the man back into the dirt. The crowd still lingering around the end of the free show quickly take a step back, whispers of “Shinigami-san” spreading.

Technically, as a Shinigami, Kisuke isn’t to interfere with the mundane matters of a town. Petty thieves are handled by whatever peacekeeping system the town employs. But, no one is going to point that out to him, too wary of his strength and status.

Underneath him the man wheezes in pain, a sound that satisfies a dark part of Kisuke.

“Well, thief-san, it appears you’ve made a very poor decision today,” he says casually, leaning down closer to the man’s head. The crowd stirs uncomfortably around him.

“Wha-what,” gasps the thief.

“Next time, choose your target a little better, hmm?” Kisuke advises before hitting him swiftly in the back of the head, bouncing his face off the ground with another crunch of a broken bone. The man falls unconscious and Kisuke steps gracefully off his back. “You should probably take him to whatever jail you have here,” Kisukes says to the general audience.

A pair of men cautiously approaches, bowing respectfully to him before lifting the man off the ground and carrying him away. Kisuke gives a jaunty wave to the staring crowd before vanishing using shunpo, escaping back to the roof so he can continue trailing after Ichi-san.

* * *

Ichigo hums as she counts out the money she took from the thief, having already tossed his wallet into a garbage can. It’s not a lot of money, but the man had clearly been successful in robbing others before her. Maybe she should feel a little bad about that, but she has no way of figuring out who he took money from before trying to steal from her.

There’s not nearly the amount she would have gotten from the bounties on the hollows, but there’s more than Karin and Yuzu tend to make in a week. Enough to loosen a little bit of tension in her shoulders, enough to splurge just a tiny bit.

“You guys want to get udon?” Ichigo asks. Karin had cackled gleefully when she realized that Ichigo had picked the thief’s pocket, and even Yuzu wasn’t complaining.

“Can we?” asks Yuzu. Because she rarely needs to eat she often insists on abstaining whenever Karin or Ichigo take meals, but she enjoys eating when the chance arises and they haven’t had a meal out in weeks.

“Yeah. It’ll be on Thief-san,” Ichigo tells her with a smirk as she transfers the funds to her own wallet, made by Yuzu out of an adorably fruit patterned fabric. She’d been more upset at the thought of losing it than the little money inside it.

“Yes!” cheers Karin, already making her way to the closest restaurant that serves it. Yuzu runs off after her, laughing.

It fills Ichigo’s heart to see them so happy and carefree. Sometimes she wonders what kind of life she’s giving them out here. She tried to put them in the local school, but aside from Soul Society history the girls had been above the level provided by it. She’s encouraged them to make friends with the other local kids, but once they saw how wary the town was of her they chose to spend most of their free time with her instead. She never asked them to work, but they went out themselves and found it when they realized how often Ichigo starved herself for them.

They still don’t know that the mayor is essentially blackmailing her so they can stay safe in Aomatsu.

Her sisters pull her out of her thoughts as they call to her to hurry up. Ichigo hustles up to them, finally elegant and smooth on her zori after months of stumbling awkwardly when they had first arrived. She can’t remember what she used to wear in the Transient World but given how clumsy she’d been with the clothing here Ichigo can’t imagine they were the same.

The three of them climb onto the tall stools on the counter, ordering their food quickly before devolving into small talk. Karin is telling them a story from work when the curtain separating the stand from the street parts and someone settles onto the stool next to Ichigo. She flicks her eyes to them lazily, unconcerned, and then does a double take when she realizes it’s the Shinigami from the day before.

He sets himself down gracefully, smiling widely at the man at the counter as he orders before cutting his eyes to her.

“Hello, my dear, how are you today? Your leg treating you alright?” he asks, an expression of concern on his face. Ichigo isn’t sure why, but it seems like the expression doesn’t quite sit comfortably on his face, as if he doesn’t often make it.

“Don’t call me that,” Ichigo hisses at him. Her sisters have quieted down at her elbow, leaning around her to try and see the Shinigami more clearly.

“Well, you never gave me your name,” he points out, voice annoyingly reasonable. “So, until you do, I have to call you something, don’t I sweetheart?”

She feels her eye twitch, just a little.

“Ichigo.” She bites out. “My name is Ichigo. Now, what are you doing here, Shinigami-san.”

“You can call me Kisuke,” he tells her instead of answer the question. “Or if that makes you uncomfortable we can start with Urahara.”

“Shinigami-san is fine,” Ichigo says as he pouts at her. It’s unfair that such a stupid expression still manages to look handsome on him.

“As for what I’m doing here, I wanted to get to know you better, Ichigo-chan,” he leans in just a touch too close to her, but it’s his eyes that unnerve her. They haven’t once left her face, intensely watching every shift of her expression. It’s a level of interest Ichigo isn’t sure she’s comfortable having a Shinigami show in her.

“Why?” she asks as she smooths a calming palm down Karin’s back where she’s getting riled up on the other side of Ichigo. Karin and Yuzu are as protective of her as she is of them, in their own ways.

“Why? Because you’re interesting, Ichigo-chan.”

“I’m really not, I assure you, I’m very boring.”

He laughs at her, and then seems almost surprised that he did.

“No, my dear, you are by far the most interesting thing I’ve stumbled upon in years,” he tells her, looking like a predator as he smiles at her, sending a thrill down her spine.

Ichigo is secure enough to acknowledge that the man is handsome, and far more interesting himself than anyone else around here, but he’s also dangerous, in more than one way. She turns away from him as her food is set in front of her and begins eating nervously. She’s hungry of course, she always is, but she practically has to force herself to swallow.

“I’m not here to cause you problems,” the man murmurs to her softly. “I swear I don’t want to hurt you.”

It shouldn’t be as comforting as it is, he could be lying, he probably is lying. Ichigo doesn’t know much about Shinigami but she can tell he’s far stronger than the others she’s seen a few times. Yuzu softly starts to talk again to Karin, as she slowly eats her food. Ichigo knows she’ll pretend to be full part way through and give them the rest to her.

“Fine, what do you want to know about me?” Ichigo finally relents. Best to give him a little of what he wants, maybe once he sees that she really is boring he’ll leave.

“Tell me, Ichigo-chan, do you know the name of your zanpakutou?”

Ichigo swivels a little in her seat so she look at the man. He’s slurping casually at his own bowl of noodles after asking her such a strange question.

“My sword’s, name?”

“Yes. Have you spoken to your sword?”

“So they can talk to you,” Ichigo mutters to herself, spooning broth into her mouth thoughtfully.

“Haven’t you heard? Shinigami talk to their swords.”

“Well, yeah, but no one’s mentioned them talking back.”

“What, did you think all Shinigami were touched in the head?” There’s laughter in his voice as he speaks to her, making her flush a little in embarrassment before he continues. “You might not be entirely wrong. Does this mean you’ve heard it speaking?”

“Sometimes. I can’t really tell what it’s trying to say.”

“Meditation helps,” he offers.

“Ugh,” Ichigo wrinkles her nose. She’s never been very good at that. Too much sitting still for her.

“Yes, that’s how most young Shinigami feel about it.”

“I’m not a Shinigami,” protests Ichigo.

“No, you certainly aren’t,” he agrees, letting his eyes finally leave her face to playfully skim down her form. “Much too colorful.”

“Stop that,” she tells him. He laughs at her, grey eyes shining with amusement.

“Shall I change the topic, who are your companions, sisters?” The way he asks, like he already knows the answer, makes Ichigo narrow her eyes at him. Earlier in the market she’d felt like someone was watching her, but was never able to spot anyone looking her way.

“Yes. This is Karin,” she sets a hand onto black hair, “and Yuzu.” She reaches over Karin’s head to touch a hand to Yuzu’s shoulder. She cuts a glare to the Shinigami eyeing them both speculatively. “I’d destroy anything that tries to harm them.”

“Marvelous,” he cheers in reply, not at all put off by Ichigo’s dark demeanor. Nothing she says or does seems to put him off and Ichigo isn’t quite sure what to make of that. “I was serious when I asked about your leg earlier, it’s not troubling you is it?”

“No, it’s just a small scratch,” Ichigo says with a shake of her head. “I’ve had worse,” she continues, almost like she’s trying to reassure him.

“That’s not really something I want to hear,” Shinigami-san replies. “If you want, I could finish healing it for you, with Kaido.”

“What’s that?” Ichigo says. She’s never heard the term before, although she does know that Shinigami can do some sort of strange magic.

“It’s a way of healing another person using a combination of one’s own and the patient’s reiatsu.”

“Would you have to touch me for this?” Ichigo asks, suspiciously.

“Well, technically. I promise to be the utmost gentleman about it however.” He places a hand over his heart.

“No thanks,” Ichigo denies him. “I’m not sure there’s anything gentlemanly about you.”

“So hurtful, Ichigo-chan.” He whines at her. Ichigo rolls her eyes in response.

They lapse into a somewhat strained but still companionable silence as everyone continues eating their food. As Ichigo suspected Yuzu declares herself full halfway through her bowl and passes it to Ichigo to finish. The man, Urahara as she should probably start thinking of him as, looks approving as she digs into it without hesitation, his own empty bowl pushed away. He calls the counter attendant over, pressing money into his hand.

“Well, I think it’s time for me to get going. I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You weren’t welcome in the first place,” Karin mutters darkly, just loud enough to be heard by everyone. Urahara laughs at her, seemingly taking no offense.

“Your sister takes after you so much, Ichigo-chan,” he says jovially as he stands up from his stool, adjusting his sword at his side as he does. Ichigo flushes a little at his words. “Until we meet again. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

“Why would we meet again,” Ichigo calls after him as he exits with an irreverent wave. She huffs at the lack of reply before finishing off her bowl.

When she goes to pay she gets told it’s already been covered by the ‘gentleman’. Ichigo isn’t sure whether to be thankful or annoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone mentioned that my story shares similarities with ideas from https://rayshippouuchiha.tumblr.com. I don't own a tumblr and haven't for years and so never stumbled upon this, but thought I'd mention it anyway. If you enjoy this, doubtlessly you'd enjoy their stuff.
> 
> I swear there is like some actual plot to this, somewhere.


	3. Delphinium - Levity, Fun, Generosity, Ardent Attachment

Kisuke’s been back in Seireitei for five days and already the boredom feels terminal. He’s submitted the carefully edited report to the first division, checked that nothing spontaneously caught fire while he was gone, and endured Hiyori’s lecture on providing more notice before leaving with grace and the careful application of earplugs. Since then he’s done everything expected of a captain, well, everything his division learned to expect from him.

He’s down in the lab carefully measuring out chemicals for the new fertilizer the Fourth Division has commissioned but he can’t maintain focus. His mind keeps slipping back to a certain redhead and it’s starting to become infuriating. When he catches himself almost adding too much nitrate too the mixture, which could have explosive consequences, he gently, but emphatically, sets the entire thing down onto the lab table with a huff. He’d been thinking about the way Ichigo had moved when she was running from him in the forest _again_.

“What is wrong with you?” Mayuri asks him from his own station across the room. He’s working on something that might be a paralytic or may just be a flavor enhancer for the ramen Mayuri is constantly eating. Kisuke isn’t entirely sure and generally prefers to speak as seldom as possible to Mayuri so he’s not about to ask.

Sure, Mayuri’s competent, but he’s also a genuinely unpleasant person. Kisuke liberated him from the Maggot’s Nest in hopes that a bit of rehabilitation would do wonders for his personality, but unfortunately that’s yet to occur in over a hundred years. Luckily, he can be kept in check easily enough, so there’s been no reason to send him back, even if Kisuke thinks he might be planning Kisuke’s death during his off time.

“Whatever do you mean, Mayuri-kun?” Kisuke asks with false cheer, using Mayuri’s first name because it irritates him and Kisuke is petty enough to enjoy that.

Mayuri squints at him balefully before turning back to his own project, huffy as ever.

“You’ve been huffing and sighing and distracted for days,” Mayuri says while snatching a beaker out of Nemu’s hands without so much as a thanks to the poor girl. There are times when Kisuke questions allowing Mayuri to continue with his Nemuri project but he can’t deny that Nemu worked out well, and so long as he and Hiyori are around Mayuri can’t get too aggressive with her. There are times too when Kisuke would almost swear Mayuri holds some affection for the girl, although it’s usually ruined a moment later by Mayuri opening his mouth. “If you’re going to be like this you might as well not be here at all.”

“Are you concerned for me, Mayuri-kun?” Kisuke teases as a deflection. Disappointment in himself rises as he realizes he’s been obvious in his distraction the last few days. There was a time when no one would ever been able to tell he wasn’t as focused as usual. But then, there was a time when Kisuke would never have been so distracted by a woman.

“Not at all, you’re just getting on my nerves,” Mayuri spits, practically bristling.

“My apologies, Mayuri-kun,” Kisuke says, insincerely. However, Mayuri makes a good point, Kisuke’s inattentiveness may prove dangerous if it continues. “Perhaps I am done for the day.”

“Good,” Mayuri huffs, mixing something probably a touch too vigorously, Kisuke hopes it isn’t explosive. “Get out then.”

“Of course, Mayuri-kun, you and Nemu-san have a good day,” he says putting away his materials. Behind him Mayuri grumbles that Kisuke doesn’t respect him enough. It’s true of course, but Kisuke isn’t going to tell Mayuri that.

Leaving the lab leaves Kisuke at a loose end, however, unsure what to do with the rest of his day. He considers, and then decides against, getting started on any non-essential paperwork, preferring to leave that until the last of the month when Hiyori threatens him into completing it. At a loss for anything better he pokes his head into the training grounds where his seventh seat is leading extra training in Hohou for a group of unseated members, who are almost painfully clumsy and slow to Kisuke’s eyes.

It reminds Kisuke of what he’d been thinking of earlier, the strange style of reiatsu enhanced running Ichigo used. Perhaps his distraction comes from not fully understanding the technique? Deep down Kisuke knows this likely isn’t the case, but it’s as good an excuse as any, and at least something he might be able to resolve.

He heads over to his and Yoruichi’s secret training ground, abandoning his division without a second thought. The location is large enough he can comfortably experiment with the strange movement pattern and nicely hidden so he won’t potentially embarrass himself in front of others.

Arriving he takes a moment to look around. He spent a lot of time here with Yoruichi and Tessai back in the day, but lately rarely ever bothered coming out to it. Kisuke arranges himself at one end on a particularly large rock and takes a seat, thinking over what he wants to do.

Ichigo used reiatsu to launch herself forward, less a step and more a leap, and then used more reiatsu to catch herself before landing, to lessen the impact and prepare for the next leap. It seems simple enough, straightforward even. Kisuke can’t imagine it being too hard.

Gathering his reiatsu below him Kisuke takes a leap, and promptly overshoots his intended target by quite a distance. He lands without bothering to try to cushion it, turning thoughtfully to eye the distance he accidentally took. It’s faster than running, slower than shunpo, but it appears that it might take less reiatsu to cover similar distances.

“Interesting,” he says to himself. “Let’s try that again.”

* * *

Two hours later and Kisuke becomes aware of another presence in the training ground, one as familiar as himself. He takes the time to finish his last attempt, much better than his first but still not as smooth as Ichigo made it, turning midway through his leap to arrive in front of Yoruichi.

That is certainly one thing Ichigo’s movement has over shunpo, it’s easier to switch directions mid-step.

“Hello, Yoruichi-san,” he greets. “What brings you out here?”

“I was curious why you were in this place,” Yoruichi says, eyeing him curiously. “What are you up to, Kisuke-chan?”

Kisuke isn’t surprised she’s noticed, both of them are tied into the wards that helped hide this place from others, alerting them whenever someone enters the area. She would have known immediately when he arrived.

“Oh, just, trying something new,” Kisuke answers breezily, deliberately downplaying what his attempts.

Yoruichi hums thoughtfully as she drops down to sit on a nearby boulder. “That isn’t shunpo,” she states more than asks.

Kisuke tilts his head in concession.

“Trying to invent a new form of hohou?” Yoruichi smirks at him, expecting a confirmation. Kisuke more than once in the past sought to alleviate his boredom through innovation, not just with science but with every other skill Kisuke has to his name.

“I can’t take credit, I’m merely copying something I’ve seen,” Kisuke admits, unwilling to give Yoruichi the wrong idea.

“Show me?” asks Yoruichi, manner relaxed but eyes sharp with curiosity. She settles herself more comfortably on her boulder, laying down on her side and looking remarkably like a cat as she lounges. Kisuke can almost see the tail gently flicking in interest behind her.

Kisuke acquiesces, backing up a few steps from his friend. Halfway through his experimentation he realized it’s easier if he first drapes himself in his reiatsu like a cloak, like the way Ichigo’s reiatsu seems to naturally drape her, so he lets some of his tight control ease. From there he can direct his movements with little thought, can imagine it one day becoming second nature. He takes off to the side, running a lap around the training grounds.

It’s still slower than his shunpo speed, but he’s positive that someone could use this and be faster than some Shinigami when using shunpo. It’s also, surprisingly, easier on the joints. Shunpo puts a not inconsiderable strain on the ankles, knees, and hips, especially when trying to change direction mid-step, and while it’s not enough to be detrimental, it’s noticeable. However, probably the biggest advantage over shunpo is how _light_ it is. He understands now why Ichigo had been so quiet given the wooden soles of her zori. This style of running sets the runner down lightly at the conclusion of each step, and then lifts them up in a manner gentle compared to the explosive dash of shunpo.

When Kisuke ends up back where he started, raising a brow at Yoruichi, she eyes him with some confusion.

“It’s interesting,” she says. “But I’m not sure why someone would use this over shunpo?”

“The person I copied it from, I don’t think they know shunpo,” Kisuke tells her. “I believe they might have witnessed a Shinigami using shunpo once and come up with this to emulate it.”

“That’s interesting,” muses Yoruichi. “Who did you copy it from?”

He hesitates, unsure what to say, unsure if he wants to say anything. Part of him wants to keep Ichigo to himself, a secret only he knows. It’s not an entirely foreign impulse. Kisuke learned as a child in Rukongai and then as a member in the Onmitsukido to keep the things that matter close to his vest, to keep those vulnerabilities hidden.

But when did Ichigo begin to matter? He barely knows the woman, finds her interesting, sure, but that isn’t a reason to hide her existence from Yoruichi, his best friend, the person he trusts maybe even above himself.

Yoruichi’s knowing, golden eyes bore into him. As he hesitates she raises a brow, causing Kisuke to sigh and relent.

“I went on a mission out to Rukongai a few days ago,” he begins, Yoruichi nodding. He’s unsurprised she knows, she always knows. “I found, an interesting person there.”

“Oh? They must be something for you to say that,” Yoruichi says, voice sly. Kisuke sighs, there’s no way he’s getting out of this without teasing.

“Ichigo-san is definitely something,” Kisuke agrees, realizing it’s best at this point to be straightforward. “I’ve rarely seen anyone with reiryoku reserves like hers.”

“That alone wouldn’t catch your eye,” she points out.

“You know me so well, Yoruichi-san!” This results in Kisuke being tackled by the woman, who quickly tries to put him in a headlock that he barely wiggles out of, shunpoing a safe distance away.

“Don’t be so stingy, Kisuke-chan! Tell me all about this Ichigo-san. Is she pretty?” Yoruichi leaps up off the ground with an unnecessary flip.

Kisuke thinks about it. The immediate visceral answer is _yes, very pretty_. Ichigo lacks the mature beauty of Yoruichi, but with her brilliant orange hair, pale skin, and amber eyes she’s certainly pretty. There’s something too in the line of her jaw or the slope of her nose that is familiar, giving an impression of aristocracy. She moves with complete confidence in her body, but without the awareness Yoruichi has in how others look at her.

“She doesn’t hold a candle to you, my dear,” Kisuke teases, lying.

Yoruichi rolls her eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

“I was a bit more interested in the fact she was killing Hollows with a zanpakutou and had apparently invented a new style of reiatsu assisted movement,” Kisuke tells her honestly, while still avoiding admitting to anything incriminating.

“Don’t try to distract me,” Yoruichi says, not taking the bait.

Kisuke huffs, rolling his own eyes. He should have known Yoruichi would seize on the most insignificant aspect of all this.

“She’s attractive,” he relents.

“Nice.” Yoruichi gives him a thumbs up. “You gonna get her into the academy?”

“She has two sisters, young, and she doesn’t want to leave them.” It’s too bad really, Kisuke would love to see how she’d do at the academy. So much raw power and talent, once shaped by education, what could that become?

“Ah, but, if she’s got as much reiryoku as you say and she’s managed to get her hands on a zanpakutou… Kisuke you know Seireitei would never leave her alone if they find out.”

“There’s no reason for them to find out, is there?” Kisuke reponds, perhaps a touch too forcefully if the look Yoruichi gives him means anything. Her eyes feel heavy on him, the weight of her gaze uncomfortable, partly because Kisuke can’t quite read it.

He knows he’s acting weird. He knows what he’s doing is worthy of censure, if not actual punishment. As a captain, as a loyal member of the Gotei-13, he should have reported Ichigo immediately, should probably have arrested her and dragged her back with him to Seireitei, to either be forced into the academy or locked away in the Maggot’s Nest.

He doesn’t understand why he hasn’t done either of these things. He doesn’t know Ichigo, owes her nothing. He isn’t the sentimental type to care about a stranger. It’s only 6 years in the academy at most, her sisters would probably be fine for that time. And yet, he can’t shake the feeling that something would be lost in forcing this woman’s hand.

“Careful, Kisuke-chan,” Yoruichi warns, before perking up. “When are you going to see her again?”

“Why would I see her again?” Yoruichi gives Kisuke a look that’s familiar, even though it’s been a while since he last saw it. It’s her ‘you’re a moron with no social skills’ look. It had been common eighty, ninety years ago, but as Kisuke grew into his captaincy she rarely pulled it out. “What?”

“You should go see her again. At the very least maybe you could ask her about the hohou.”

Kisuke considers it. He would like a better look at the running, would like to know if Ichigo took his advice on the meditation. It’s not as though he couldn’t spare the time, it might even be amusing, a way to fill the endless boring days.

Kisuke’s mind flashes back to how fierce and lovely Ichigo had looked taking down a Hollow.

“Perhaps I will.”

“Bring her a gift when you go,” Yoruichi instructs as if his visit is a done deal. “Something pretty.”

“Pretty?” Kisuke can’t help his confusion. He was poor once in Rukongai, a far worse district than the one Ichigo and her sisters live in. All he ever wanted was either food, or money to buy food. “Surely a gift of food would be better?”

Yoruichi gives him another one of those ‘you’re so stupid’ looks. “Get her something she can’t get herself. Something personal.”

“Why?”

“Just, do it Kisuke-chan. You’ll thank me later,” she claps him on the shoulder, and then digs her hands into his hair, scrubbing roughly over his scalp and leaving his hair wild. “I gotta run. If I’m gone too long Sui-Feng gets twitchy.”

Kisuke rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. He and Yoruichi have bickered over Sui-Feng enough over the years. He waves Yoruichi off before leaving himself to return to his division, mind already deep in thought over potential gifts, aware that he’ll do what Yoruichi tells him as usual.

* * *

Fridays are Kisuke’s one day a week off, and sure, he doesn’t always take it, but it does mean he won’t draw any attention running out to Rukongai. He heads out early in the morning, gift banging gently in his shihakushou. It took him days to think of, but only a few hours to craft once he had. Something pretty and personal enough to please Yoruichi and practical enough he feels comfortable offering it.

Technically, it’s Mayuri’s idea, based off the reiryoku draining eyepatch he crafted for Kenpachi-taichou, although Kisuke would never had made something so unpleasant to look at or wear. He can’t fault Mayuri for effectiveness however, and the principal is sound. Something that can devour excess spiritual pressure while still leaving the user enough to fight and protect themselves would mean that Ichigo would have a better chance to evade undue attention from other Shinigami and be less likely to attract Hollows to herself without leaving her helpless.

Kisuke can’t put it in an eyepatch though, not only is it inconvenient but he finds himself unwilling to cover Ichigo’s face. Shinigami naturally concentrate reiryoku in their eyes but there are other places too, like the wrists where reiatsu vents out. So Kisuke makes a bracelet, careful not to make it look nice enough to be worth stealing but still pretty, taking a cue from the hairpin Ichigo had warn to make an enamel bangle that looks like green vines with small white flowers, a strawberry plant yet to fruit.

As he runs through the districts he wonders if Ichigo will like it. Will she thank him? Will she use it? He wants her to, wants to see her in something he made. The thought sends an odd shiver down his spine and almost makes him stop for a moment, surprised.

He shakes it off and continues, spreading his awareness out the moment he hits the edge of Aomatsu. He’s halfway through the town when he senses her, the strange heavy reiatsu lingering out in the pine forest again. Kisuke heads there immediately, not quite sneaking his way through the trees but not making himself obvious either.

He stops before he reaches her, just out of her sight. She’s kneeling at the base of a tree, digging in the dirt, zanpakutou lying at her side close enough to easily snatch up if needed but out of the way. The long ponytail returns, falling down her back like a stream, bright against the overlarge black haori she wears again. A basket sits at her other side, filled with mushrooms and root vegetables. Kisuke watches for a moment as she works, but before he’s ready to announce his presence she freezes, looking up as a hand clasps around her sword.

“Who’s there?” she calls, cautiously standing and turning around so her back is to the tree, right hand gripping the hilt of her zanpakutou, ready to draw it.

Kisuke hurriedly steps out into the open, sheepish smile on his face and a hand up in greeting, projecting harmlessness. “Hello, Ichigo-san.”

“Shinigami-san,” she says, looking surprised, eyes wide as she tilts her head, hairpin tinkling lightly. Kisuke lets his eyes rove over her, she looks almost identical to the day he first saw her, the only difference being the obi she wears. Even her socks are the same, he can see the left over brown stains lingering on one. When he returns to her face her eyes are narrowed at him in suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

“You can call me Kisuke, or Urahara,” he reminds her, jovially. “Did you miss me? I missed you.” As he says so he realizes it’s not a lie.

She scowls at him, relaxing a bit but keeping a grip on her sword. “Not at all.”

“Very cruel, Ichigo-san.” Kisuke pulls the bracelet, wrapped in a floral print square of fabric he stole from Hiyori’s office, from his robe. “And after I came all this way and brought you a gift.”

Ichigo releases her sword at that, eyebrows going up. “Why would you bring me a gift?”

Kisuke shrugs. “I wanted to.”

“I don’t need anything,” she says. “You can’t bribe me.”

Kisuke thinks that’s probably a lie but he’s not trying to bribe her and tells her so.

“I want you to have it, please,” he says holding it out.

Ichigo takes a step closer, suspiciously, looking between the gift in Kisuke’s outstretched hand and his face. She approaches cautiously, waiting for a trick. Kisuke approves of her distrust to a degree, but wishes she would trust him at the same time. Slowly she reaches out a hand, and then quickly snatches up the package, backing up quickly.

“What is it?” she asks without opening it, turning it over in her hands and testing the weight of it.

“It will work to seal away some of your reiatsu, so you won’t be as noticeable to Hollows or Shinigami.”

“It will seal off my power?”

“No, not completely, you won’t be left without anything, but you won’t be spilling reiatsu out everywhere either. You’ll also be able to take it off whenever you want.”

With a serious sort of frown Ichigo unwraps the gift, revealing the bangle. She takes it out looking over it in surprise.

“A bracelet?” her tone conveys confusion, like she hadn’t expected something so normal.

“Yes. I made it to match your hairpin.” Ichigo softens when he reveals this for some reason, shoulders relaxing and face smoothing out. She looks between it and Kisuke thoughtfully.

“If I put this on and it does something weird to me I’m going to punch you so hard I will break your face,” she warns him before sliding the bangle onto her left wrist. The effect is instantaneous as her spiritual pressure drops from oppressive to merely unmissable. Less likely to catch the eye of every passing Shinigami. “Huh, that feels kinda weird.”

“Does it hurt?” he asks, concerned. It shouldn’t hurt, but, though unlikely, it’s possible Kisuke miscalculated somewhere.

“No, no, just feels weird,” she assures. Ichigo pulls the bangle off again and her reiatsu flares back up, shadowy as it settles around her again. She slips it back on. “Hmm.”

“Do you like it?” Kisuke asks, nervous for the answer. He finds he wants her to like it. Wants her to find it pretty, to find it useful, to wear it and think of Kisuke.

“Yeah. This is pretty good.” She cuts her eyes to him before looking away, cheeks flushing a little. “Thanks. It’s real nice of you.”

Kisuke’s relieved, tension he didn’t even know he was carrying releasing.

“You’re welcome,” he tells her and means it.

They lapse into silence for a bit, neither quite knowing what to say next, or maybe, in Ichigo’s case, having nothing more to say. Kisuke resists the urge to fidget, the natural instinct to diffuse tension by making a fool of himself. He feels more awkward than he’s felt in years and he can’t quite place why. Ichigo is just a girl, a Rukongai girl at that, and yet her attention on him unsettles him more than the Captain Commander ever has.

Just as Kisuke is about to break the silence, maybe ask her to show him her running again she speaks up, cutting him off.

“You want lunch?”

“What?” he asks, startled, not expecting that.

“It’s lunch time,” she says, and it is indeed a little after one. “I need to take this stuff back home to Yuzu and she’ll have lunch ready. So, do you want lunch?”

“Are you inviting me to you home for lunch with your sister,” he asks, trying to make sure they’re on the same page. Ichigo rolls her eyes at him.

“You don’t have to sound so shocked. Consider it payback for the bracelet. I know I’m just some kind of Rukongai pauper, but I do have manners you know.” Her voice is defensive and her expression forbidding, Kisuke’s standing at the edge of thin ice.

“No,” Kisuke shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t care where you came from. I was, I came from Rukongai too, West 72nd.” It’s more than he’s admitted to anyone in a while, not that most of Seireitei don’t know his origins, had spent plenty of time gossiping about it over the years. Even now, as more and more Shinigami from the upper Rukongai districts make their way into the Gotei-13’s illustrious ranks, people still like to point out the somewhat shady background of Urahara-Taichou.

Ichigo doesn’t wince or cringe, doesn’t look at him with pity or contempt when he shares this with her. Instead her gaze remains steady, her face unchanged.

“You gotta be pretty tough to make it out there,” is all she says. Kisuke wonders if he’s imagining the gentleness of her tone.

“I got lucky.” He thinks of Yoruichi, of Tessai, of being taken out of Rukongai and shown an entirely new way of life. It hadn’t been easy, and it hadn’t always been good, but he did think of himself as lucky, most days.

Ichigo hums, thoughtfully, before turning around. She picks her basket up off the ground, she walks back over to Kisuke and shoves the basket at his chest.

“You can carry this,” she tells him as he catches it. “Come on, Yuzu is probably waiting.”

“Ah, I didn’t say yes, you know, Ichigo-san,” Kisuke teases, desperately clutching for his normal lighthearted persona.

“Are you gonna say no?” she replies, eyebrow raised.

“Well, one should never turn down an offer for free food.” Kisuke’s already planning on hiding some money in her home when she’s not looking.

“That’s what I thought,” she says spinning on her heel. Kisuke can feel her gathering up reiatsu. “I’ll race you back. I’m sure you already know the way, right Shinigami-san?” She doesn’t wait for a response, instead leaping off into the distance, leaving Kisuke clutching a basket of mushrooms and tubers.

_I guess I get to see more of her running after all_ , he thinks to himself as he takes off after all, careful not to drop anything from her basket, sure she’d notice a single item missing. He’s looking forward to lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated anything in a bit. My cat died and yeah. Writing is hard most times but especially hard when sad.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, even though I'm pretty sure this chapter is not my best.


	4. Speedwell - Fidelity, travel, protection

Kisuke doesn’t make it out to Aomatsu the next Friday, or the one following, circumstances keeping him in Seireitei. It’s more aggravating than expected, he finds himself restless, wanting to return out to Rukongai. He wants to know if this time he could make Ichigo smile at him, if he could convince her sister Karin that he’s harmless. He thinks both are unlikely, but half the fun is in the attempt. He thinks fondly of his last visit; Ichigo’s thin wrist in his bangle, chasing Ichigo through the forest watching her hair whip behind her, Yuzu greeting them at the door of the apartment, the smell of lunch, Karin’s suspicious eyes.

The conversation had been light, the small family of three asking question after question about Seireitei, about being a Shinigami. Kisuke answering truthfully but impersonally, speaking at length on city amenities and meaningless gossip and not at all on himself. He spoke a little on Zanpakutou, how they are a reflection on a Shinigami’s soul, on how they grow with the Shinigami, how Ichigo will someday learn the name of her own and be more powerful for it. Kisuke had tried to ask about them, about when they arrived in Rukongai, about how they spent their time. He attempted to entice Ichigo into a conversation about how she developed her reiatsu enhanced run, but she rebuffed him, shrugging away his questions and changing the subject. It should have been frustrating, instead it was endearing.

What little he learned made him want to know more. Every piece of reluctantly ceded information fueled Kisuke’s growing desire to know it all. He wants to hoard it all away deep in his mind, become the only one to know, to see, everything that is Ichigo. It’s not a completely foreign impulse. Kisuke’s greed for knowledge is established fact, his selfishness for people is less so.

Kisuke finds himself practically counting down the days until he can return to Aomatsu. It’s more than he’s had to look forward to in years, decades. Kisuke isn’t unhappy. He likes his life in Seireitei. There are people he admires here, people he enjoys spending time with. There’s work, and it’s occasionally even stimulating. His captaincy, originally an unasked for promotion, is now something he takes pride in. And yet, the days are all the same. An endless procession marching forward with little of note to pull the days away from each other, to make them stand out in memory.

Stagnant. Seireitei has long grown stagnant. Sometimes Kisuke fears he’s growing stagnant with it. It wasn’t always this way. When Kisuke was young life had felt like an endless dash towards the next peak, the next discovery. He grew stronger, smarter, better constantly. He had friends, Yoruichi and Tessai, by his side who did the same. But eventually that upward curve started to level out, and then plateau. Kisuke knew, now, at least one reason why Yoruichi had signed him up for captaincy. She saw him approaching ennui and so gave him something new to struggle with, to learn. For a time it worked, until this too became another skill in his repertoire.

Perhaps Ichigo is only interesting because she’s new. Someone he doesn’t know with enough raw power and unrefined potential to catch his interest. It’s not the first time his interest has been caught, but usually Kisuke’s attention wanes quickly as the person inevitably proves less intriguing than first thought and the next gleaming, new distraction comes along. Already, Ichigo’s lasted longer in his thoughts than some, but doubtlessly the shine will wear off.

Kisuke plans to get as much enjoyment as he can before that happens.

But for now, he’s stuck behind his desk, going through mission assignments, under the baleful eye of Hiyori who sits at her own desk in her office across from his, door open so she can glare occasionally. He’s spent the last two weeks holed up in his lab with Mayuri, dissecting and then running various tests on an interesting type of Hollow capable of producing a venom that could spread from Shinigami to Shinigami though contact. Kisuke couldn’t call it an especially enjoyable two weeks, because time spent with Mayuri was never enjoyable, but Kisuke didn’t find it boring. Unfortunately, it meant neglecting his other duties, something that infuriates Hiyori despite how often it occurs.

Kisuke’s flipping through reports and requests and assignments quickly, barely skimming them before signing off, when his unconscious mind twigs on something that causes his conscious mind to pause and look closer. An assignment out in East 43rd, a gathering of hollows, so familiar and close to that first mission that brought him out to Aomatsu.

Kisuke taps his pen to his desk, leans over to peer out the door at Hiyori, who, upon catching him looking at her, gives a particularly menacing glare, pointing sharply at the work on his desk. Kisuke holds up his hands in mock surrender, returning to the work after sliding the job in East 43rd to the side. He wants to go. Wants to pack up now and leave. He could be there before dinner time if he hurries, could maybe talk Ichigo and her sisters into letting him take them out. Or perhaps spend another dinner in their charming little apartment, small but homely. The job could wait until the evening.

However, Hiyori is sure to be suspicious. She’s a suspicious creature by nature, at least when it comes to Kisuke. Always expects him to be up to something. Of course, usually he is. Hiyori found his first trip out odd enough, luckily doesn’t know about his second, but this third is sure to catch her attention. The work is beneath Kisuke, and he’s never been keen on jobs like this before. If Hiyori gets too curious she might just take a trip out to Aomatsu herself, and if she does she’s sure to notice Ichigo.

No, best to wait, until tomorrow when he can tell Hiyori he’s taking the day off. She’ll be angry but Kisuke’s taken time off at the last minute before. Does it mostly to keep Hiyori on her toes. Hiyori is at her best when she’s angry enough to forget propriety.

Dutifully he signs another form, something about finances, he doesn’t bother reading it, he’s not an accountant. Yes, tomorrow he’ll head out, swing by Aomatsu before continuing to Takaiki, hopefully in the company of Ichigo. A perfect plan.

* * *

Ichigo hates basket weaving. It’s not that it’s particularly difficult, it’s not even that it requires her to sit still for hours at a time really, it’s just boring. And sometimes the bamboo strips cut into her hands. Ichigo is pretty good at it though, not quite as good as Yuzu who’s mastered weaving patterns into her baskets with dyed twine, but her own baskets are sturdy and practical. It’s good work for this time of year, as the harvests come in and people stock up on coal for the winter and discover that the wet, humid summers have rotted their baskets out.

Even still, Ichigo hates basket weaving. Which is probably why she’s not as annoyed as she should be to hear a knocking at the window, peering over Yuzu’s head where her sister sits across from her working on her own basket. There’s a face in her window, visible in the decorative holes cut into her shutters meant to let in light but keep out cold air, and it startles her enough to release the bamboo strip she’s threading through the stakes of her basket, causing it to loosen and slip out of shape. The person at the window gives a cheery wave and Ichigo recognizes him as Urahara-san.

He motions for her to open the window calling out “Hello, Ichigo-san!” as he does. Ichigo glowers at him. This is ridiculous. She has a door. He’s been through it before. She stomps over to the window to throw the wood shutter open before he can draw much more attention. The last thing Ichigo needs is rumors about a strange Shinigami hovering around her.

“What are you doing?” Ichigo demands, leaning a little way out the window so she can eye Urahara. He’s clinging, somehow, to the side of the wall, seemingly perfectly comfortable attached to the wall of her building like a monkey. Gently the man reaches out and pushes her back from the window before climbing through himself.

“You’re as energetic as ever I see,” he replies, sitting on the sill of the window so that his sandaled feet don’t touch her tatami flooring. Which is lucky for him because if he tracks dirt into her home he’s going to be the one that cleans it.

“Shinigami-san,” she admonishes as the man pouts at her, making Ichigo roll her eyes. He’s a grown man! He shouldn’t pout like that! “What do you want?”

“Nothing, my dear!” he tells her. He reaches out lightning quick to take her by the hand, lifting it to eye the bangle she wears around her wrist. “Has this been working well for you?”

“Don’t call me that,” Ichigo protests, trying to pull her hand back. She can’t. She’s caught in a deceptively gentle grasp. His hand is remarkably warm, and heavily calloused. It feels nice around her own, much slimmer hand. Ichigo feels her cheeks warm as he holds on.

“Then you should call me Kisuke,” he says as he brushes a thumb over her knuckles before releasing her hand.

“I’m not calling you that!” Behind Ichigo, Yuzu giggles. The traitor.

While Ichigo has been complaining and theorizing for days about what Urahara wants from her, and Karin has been muttering invectives under her breath, Yuzu has been remarkably calm. Ichigo knows Yuzu has some sort of idea in her head about Urahara’s objectives, but she’s not sharing them with Ichigo, and seems to find Ichigo’s ire at the situation amusing.

“Why not? I refer to you by your given name?”

“That’s just because we don’t have a family name,” points out Ichigo. They arrived in Soul Society together, the three of them, with enough memory to know they were sisters and to know their own names. Or at least Ichigo is pretty sure they are the right names. For all she knows it’s their favorite fruits. The memories one brings with them to Soul Society are always sparse and people could arrive without even knowing their given name at times.

“Exactly, it’s only fair then that you get to call me Kisuke.” He gives her a smile, teeth sharp but eyes sharper. He’s always watching her, she’s noticed the few times they’ve interacted.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Ichigo says. “Did you come by for a reason? We aren’t going to feed you again.” She crosses are arms over her chest, trying to appear foreboding.

“You wound me, Ichigo-san,” Urahara says, dramatically clutching at his chest, leaning just far enough back that for a second Ichigo thinks he’s going to fall out. She reaches out automatically, meaning to catch hold of his sleeve and pull him back to safety, but he straightens up before she can, eyes glinting as he looks over her. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to go Hollow hunting?”

That surprises her, and she’s sure it shows on her face. She drops both arms back to her side, casting a look over at Yuzu, who has paused her own basket making to watch them.

“What?” Ichigo asks, looking back at Urahara.

“Hollow hunting. There are reports of a bunch of hollows out in Takaiki. I’m here to take care of it, but I thought you might like to join me? Afterall, because of me you didn’t get to collect the bounties on the last bunch.” Urahara wears a mild look on his face, like her answer doesn’t really matter, but his eyes still track her own.

“You really want to go with me?” Ichigo knows she’s untrained, knows she’s more of a liability than anything else because of it. Sure, she’s pretty tough, for the Rukongai, but that can’t mean anything compared to a trained Shinigami. Ichigo tends to avoid them whenever possible, but the people in town love to gossip about the residents of Seireitei, partly in jealousy, partly in hushed fear. Rumors say they can do magic, lift a thousand pounds, and even teleport. Ichigo isn’t sure how true all of that is, doesn’t really believe everything people say, but there’s probably some sort of basis for the rumors.

Certainly, Urahara had dispatched two hollows like it was nothing. Like it was easy as breathing. If all Shinigami are like him then Ichigo will do well to avoid their attention.

“I’m interested in seeing you fight, besides, this sort of thing is always safer with two isn’t it?” He sounds reasonable, voice gently coaxing, leaning forward just enough to denote interest without being pressuring. Something about it rings ever so slightly false to Ichigo, but she can’t decide why. And he’s not wrong. Ichigo would certainly feel better having someone else with her.

Often when she goes off chasing rumors of Hollows she feels a sick sort of guilt in her stomach that she might end up dying, leaving Yuzu and Karin alone. She wouldn’t do it, except the hollows would come after her and her sisters anyway and they really do need the money. The bounty offices typically can’t tell hollows apart from each other, so they give the same payment for all of them, but even a single Hollow is more than what Ichigo and her sisters tend to scrap together in three weeks.

Hesitating, Ichigo casts her eyes back at Yuzu again. Her sister shrugs at her. Urahara is definitely wants something from her, and Ichigo isn’t sure what it is, which means he’s dangerous. At the same time, he’s had ample opportunity to hurt her or to make her life difficult and hasn’t done so. Has even made her life a little easier thanks to his gift of the bangle she never takes off. Ichigo is almost certain there’s something hidden about the gift, something Urahara isn’t telling her. And yet Ichigo is still thankful.

Ichigo runs a hand through her bangs, huffing. Usually she’s pretty good at figuring people out, but Urahara manages to elude her. She knows he should be dragging her off to the academy, he probably she be taking her sword away at the very least. But he hasn’t. He seems fascinated by her power, but Ichigo is sure he has more than her. He gives her a gift both pretty and practical, for seemingly no reason.

“What is it you want from me, Shinigami-san?” Ichigo asks.

“I told you, I don’t want anything,” Urahara smiles at her, but it looks more like a smirk than anything else. He clearly finds her amusing, and Ichigo doesn’t appreciate being a joke to someone. And yet, he appears to be taking her very seriously at the same time.

Ichigo rolls her eyes at him.

“Fine. I’ll go. Get out. I need to change.” She shoves at his shoulder. Urahara doesn’t even sway, it’s like pushing at a wall.

“Are you shy Ichigo-san?” Urahara says with exaggerated glee, giving a ridiculous fake leer at her. Yuzu laughs behind her as she shoves harder at him until he flips himself out the window. “Alright, alright, I will wait for you out here Ichigo-san.”

“Good. Do that,” Ichigo tells him, before slamming the window shutter closed. “Pervert,” she mumbles under her breath, ignoring the laughter that floats up from below.

Ichigo is still muttering quietly as she digs her hunting clothes out of the chest that stores their few extra clothes. Dressing quickly in the older yukata she doesn’t mind getting dirty and the overlarge men’s haori she wears to prevent the worst of blood stains, she still takes the time to sit in front of Yuzu and let her little sister do up her hair into a neat ponytail, smiling as she feels the hairpin her sisters saved up to buy for her being inserted. The three little strawberries dangling from it click together softly.

“You’ll be careful, right Nee-san?” Yuzu asks her, gathering up Ichigo’s discarded robe to fold and put away.

“Of course. He might be weird, but I’m sure Shinigami-san is strong. And this way we’ll have plenty of money for winter.” Even just two or three bounties would mean they’d be in a much better position than last winter, when they had to cover themselves in layers after running out of fuel for the small oil heater they use.

“We could get by even if you don’t go,” Yuzu argues. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want.”

“I thought you liked Shinigami-san?” Ichigo crouches down in front of her sister, black haori spreading out around her. Yuzu had been happy to see him for lunch a few weeks back, and had spent days afterwards talking about him.

“I do,” Yuzu agrees, “but he makes you nervous.”

“Well, maybe a little,” Ichigo admits. “I just, don’t know why he keeps coming by…”

“Really?” Yuzu asks her, skeptical. Ichigo once again feels like Yuzu knows something that she doesn’t.

“What?”

“No, nothing,” Yuzu sighs stepping away from Ichigo and into the small corner of their apartment that serves as kitchen. “You shouldn’t keep him waiting. Have fun with Shinigami-san, okay?”

“I’m not going to have fun,” Ichigo tells her as she secures her stolen Zanpakutou by her side, tying the hilt to the braided cord wrapped around her obi.

“Sure,” chirps Yuzu, pressing a small wrapped bundle into her hands. “Snacks, just in case you get hungry.”

“Oh, thanks, Yuzu.” Ichigo wraps an arm around Yuzu’s shoulders, squeezing tight. “I’ll try to be back by dinner, but it might take longer.”

“I’ll make enough for Shinigami-san, just in case.”

“Don’t bother, he can get his own food,” Ichigo says as she releases Yuzu and steps over to the door, swinging it open, and then immediately jumping back as it becomes apparent that Urahara was standing right behind it, waiting on her.

“Ready to go? We’ll have to run through the forest to get there,” he says, eyes sweeping over her briefly before returning to her own.

“Don’t do that,” Ichigo hisses at him, startled. “God you are creepy. Bye, Yuzu.” Ichigo steps outside, assuming Urahara will step back as she does, only to find herself practically pressed to his front as he doesn’t. She can feel herself blushing and regrets more than ever her fair complexion. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all Ichigo-san!” He still doesn’t move, instead craning his neck down to maintain eye contact as she tilts her own neck back.

With a scowl Ichigo shoves bodily into and then past him. The brief moment of resistance before Urahara moves tells her that he only does so because he allows it. The thought sends a shiver down her spine, but Ichigo isn’t entirely sure why. She already knows he’s stronger than her.

“Ready to run?” Ichigo asks instead of trying to look deeper into what she’s feeling. Without waiting for a reply to jumps over the balcony to the ground and then takes off towards to forest, sure Urahara will follow after her.

“Always,” he calls back to her, before eventually overtaking her, easily outpacing Ichigo. “Shall I lead? I know where they’re said to be gathering after all.”

“Whatever, let’s just hurry up.” Ichigo gathers her reiatsu to speed up, scowling when Urahara easily does the same, maintaining his lead. He’s using that same sharp run that Ichigo has seen twice before from other Shinigami, only at a distance though as she hid from them. She had modeled her own way of running off of it a little, but it’s clear now, seeing it up close, how much she got wrong. With a small frown she attempts to match what Urahara is doing while the man is distracted, rambling on about his assignment and how strange it is for so many hollows to gather so close twice now.

Ichigo doesn’t really notice as she slowly speeds up throughout their journey through the pine forest of Aomatsu. Urahara matches her step for step, increasing his own speed bit by bit to stay far enough ahead of her to lead the way. They lapse into a companionable silence as they cross from East 42nd district into East 43rd, the trees growing taller around them but less dense.

As they run Ichigo considers that this is the furthest she’s been from home since arriving in Rukongai. She and her sisters had appeared, huddled together, gripping each other so hard their knuckles had turned red with the strain, outside of Aomatsu Town and had since done very little traveling. Ichigo often enters the forest to either scavenge or hunt, but her sisters aren’t supposed to leave the relative safety of the town.

Truthfully, she never would venture this far if not for Urahara. Ichigo isn’t a coward, but she’s very cognizant of the fact that she is her sister’s protector. There have been times rumors of fugitives or Hollows in the nearby districts have filtered into town, but Ichigo always hesitated to chase them. The risk that something would happen when she was so far from home, or that she’d be caught by Shinigami more interested in following the rules than Urahara, wasn’t worth the potential income.

Overall, Rukongai wasn’t exactly what Ichigo would pick as an afterlife. Life here was hard, and with few luxuries. She didn’t remember much about her life before, but she thinks she was happy. She isn’t unhappy here, not when she has her sisters, but there’s a level of daily stress Ichigo could do without. She’s also, maybe, a little lonely. The townspeople rarely talk to her, tend to look past her on the streets and never want anything to do with her. They don’t treat her sisters the same way, which is good because Ichigo doesn’t want to have to start getting into fights in the streets.

The loneliness is probably why she hasn’t tried harder to chase Urahara away. Not that she thinks she could if she tried. But she could have made an effort, and she definitely cold have froze him out, not taken his gift, not invited him to lunch, not agreed now to go to Takaiki with him. That she hasn’t is more a result of loneliness than any affection for Urahara. Probably.

Ahead of her, Urahara comes to a sudden stop, a few miles into Takaiki, head jerking to the left and a frown on his face. Ichigo sets herself down softly beside him, letting her own reiatsu sweep out behind her like the sides of her haori do.

“Shinigami-san? Is something wrong?” she asks when he remains silent. She shuffles her feet a little, widening her stance on her zori sandals. They were one of the first purchases she made, picked out by Yuzu who thought they were pretty and ladylike. It took a long time to get use to them but now Ichigo finds it almost second nature to move in them, even while running, even while fighting.

She casts her eyes around the trees, looking for interlopers, for animals, for hollows, but it’s just her and the Shinigami.

“Ah, Ichigo-san, you can’t feel it?” he asks back, head swiveling in her direction and eyes lingering just a moment on the trees before landing on her face. Urahara is as intense as ever when looking at her, but combined with his other behavior and what they’re hunting, it makes Ichigo a little uneasy.

“Feel what?” She moves her hand to grip the hilt of her sword, taking comfort in the press of black leather to her palm.

“Open your senses, try to find the thing out of place,” he tells her, unhelpfully. His own hands are loose at his side, easy and free. Either he’s not feeling the same anxiety Ichigo is or he deals with it differently.

“What does that mean?” Ichigo has no idea what he’s talking about. Out of place? She doesn’t know this area, she wouldn’t know what was in place! Her sense are open anyway, eyes straining for any sound, eyes zipping back and forth from the trees to Urahara’s face.

“You always know where your sisters are, right? You can find them wherever they are?” He’s guessing, she thinks, but he isn’t wrong. She always knows if it’s Karin or Yuzu walking up behind her, always knows who’s in the apartment before opening the door, can always track them in town when she needs to see them, to assure herself they’re okay. Then there was that time Karin got into a scuffle with a pair of drunkards. Ichigo felt her fear and anxiety from the apartment and rushed to her side to defend her. Urahara must see the answer on her face because he continues. “When you do that you’re sensing their reiatsu, their spiritual pressure. You can sense Hollows this way too, but they’ll feel wrong, empty. Try it.”

With a huff and a scowl Ichigo does, closing her eyes to block out the distraction of the trees around her and Urahara beside her. She straightens up from her readied position, loosening her grip on her sword. She starts, by trying to sense her sisters, but she gets nothing, too far away probably. So instead she tries to use that sense memory to feel Urahara beside her. It takes a little while. Ichigo isn’t quite sure how long, time seeming to move strangely as she focuses on this weird almost sixth sense, but eventually she feels something.

It’s almost sharp, and hot, and there’s a sense of restraint she never gets with her sisters, a refined edge the sisters lack, but it’s something, something to focus on and anchor herself with. She expands outwards, slowly, but with no real sense of distance, the forest around her almost like a background hum, just low enough to ignore. She keeps reaching and reaching, even as her head starts to hurt a little and sweat prickles at her temples until she finds it.

A sense of a great void. A howling hunger. Large, and hostile, and so very wrong. Like static in dry winter air. Her eyes snap open and Ichigo takes a step back on instinct.

“What was that?” she asks, panting a little from the exertion. She feels stretched thin, pulled to her limit. She pulls back, trying to refocus around her and not however far away that emptiness was. Urahara has sidled just a little closer in her distraction, gaze glued to her. He reaches out a hand to place under her elbow, as if to steady her, but she pulls away before he can.

“Good job,” Urahara tells her mildly, but there is real warmth in his voice and a gleam of pride in his eyes. “You caught on quicker than I expected.”

“Thanks?” Ichigo huffs out, trying to regain her composure, more pleased than she’s willing to admit at his complement.

“Unfortunately, it seems I’ve led you into a bit more danger than expected, Ichigo-san,” Urahara continues. “I was expecting a similar situation to the one we met in, a half dozen or so relatively weak hollows. That does not appear to be the case. I should have figured out the exact situation before inviting you out here.” Genuine remorse flits over Urahara’s face.

“What is the situation, Shinigami-san?”

“Well, there appear to be roughly fifteen to twenty hollows to the west of here, of various levels of strength. I’m fairly confident in being able to handle them, but there’s more risk to you than I originally thought. Of course, I’ll do what I can to protect you, Ichigo-san.”

The Shinigami is more serious than she’s yet seen him be, which is probably what causes the first frisson of unease to track down her spine.

“I can protect myself.” Ichigo isn’t sure who she’s assuring more, Urahara or herself.

“Of course, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to keep you safe. You can, if you’d rather, wait here. I can collect the mask fragments for you and then retrieve you when I’m done. This is my job after all, no need for you to risk yourself for something that’s my duty.” He looks, shiftier, than usual. Exaggeratedly calm, which makes Ichigo think he isn’t. He really wants her to remain behind, she realizes.

“What else? Is there more?” He doesn’t look surprised at her question, in fact his face smooths out entirely until even that shifty look fades. It’s disconcerting to watch, almost like a whole new man stands beside her rather than the one she thought she was just beginning to understand.

“You are more perceptive than I thought you’d be,” he says causing Ichigo to scowl at him. “This many Hollows shouldn’t be able to gather this quickly here. There’s something strange going on, but I don’t know what, and without knowing what I don’t know what might happen.”

“Well, it’s not like I expected you to know everything, Shinigami-san. Look, we’ll go together, fight them, figure out what’s happening, and then, if you’re not being weird, you can come have dinner with us.” Urahara’s face still looks like that smooth, emotionless mask and it makes doubt blossom in her mind. “Unless you think I’ll just be in the way, and that’s why you want me to wait here?”

“Ichigo-san, if that’s what I was thinking I’d simply tell you.” It’s more comforting then perhaps it should be to hear.

“Okay, right. Then, we should go. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be stuck out here all night, I’d much rather get home in time to eat Yuzu’s dinner.” Ichigo looks away, busying herself making sure her sword is tied securely at her side and her yukata is folded high enough to not impede her.

“I’d hate for you to miss Yuzu-san’s cooking,” he says, mask cracking a little as he smiles at her. His eyes dip briefly to Ichigo’s legs as she fiddles with her hem. “Follow me then, and be careful. If you begin to tire fall back, I’ll cover your retreat.”

“Who’s gonna retreat? I’ll definitely kill more of them than you,” Ichigo claims with ire, eyes snapping back up to meet his, scowling a little when she realizes where his were. She’s not usually a very competitive person but Urahara seems to bring it out in her.

“Is that so? Perhaps we should have a little wager then?” Urahara’s voice is sly and it immediately makes Ichigo suspicious. She feels her shoulders rise a little defensively.

“What kind of wager?”

“How about, winner gets a kiss?”

“I think you’re the only one who benefits no matter who wins.”

“It was worth a try,” he sighs, as if genuinely disappointed. Ichigo isn’t sure what he’s playing at. Maybe he’s trying to distract her from worrying about the upcoming fight?

“Yeah, right, can we go already?” Ichigo takes a purposefully large step back, away from Urahara, making him laugh before he turns to head off to the west. Ichigo steals herself against that empty feeling before following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while. The month has been long, and sad. Also I was about halfway through the chapter when I threw my back out??? Guys, don't get old.
> 
> I'm sorry nothing actually happens in this chapter??? It's just a bunch of flirting lmao.
> 
> Anyway I'm trying to figure out a way to keep people updated on chapter progress and other fic ideas, but all I can think of is tumblr and I don't wanna go back. Anyone have any ideas? Maybe I could use the profile section on Ao3?


	5. Peony - Honor, Bravery, Bashfulness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shows up 2 months late without even a Starbucks. What can I say, 2020 be 2020ing.

Kisuke manages to kill two Hollows with reiatsu enhanced daggers he pulls from his sleeve and a third with a swift Hadou before the rest realize the pair lingering at the edge of their conglomerate and begin to attack. What follows afterwards is several minutes worth of fighting with Kisuke’s attention split between Ichigo and the Hollows.

They’re surprisingly well coordinated given the inherently hostile nature of Hollows, moving in unison to attack and blocking blows for each other to prevent killings. Kisuke manages to smash the mask of one in only for three others to instantly jump him in retaliation. He thinks, vaguely, how quiet these Hollows are. Most can’t wait to taunt or chatter at Shinigami, and even those quieter by nature tend to vocalize exertion or pain, but the Hollows here are near silent.

Ichigo is holding her own well enough, though she’s been forced away from him, further into the trees. He sees her drive her sword into the face of a small hollow with acid dripping from its teeth before he’s forced to roll out of the way of bundle of reiatsu threads that slam into the ground where he just was.  
  
It takes only a few seconds after that to realize that the smaller Hollow near the center of the mass is controlling the rest, some strange Hollow ability allowing it to puppet the others. It explains why such a large group of them have gathered together without attempting to consume one another, but it does not explain how they managed to all sneak into Soul Society without anyone noticing. Eighteen is a ridiculously high number for one area.

Such a large group should have been obvious even out here, so far from Seireitei, and yet nothing in the mission specifications had hinted at such a conglomerate. Had Kisuke not chosen to come out himself and instead sent the low seated officer, or the small group of unseated Shinigami, the original mission assignment required he’s certain he would be replacing whatever Shinigami he sent out. The problem wasn’t the power possessed by the Hollows, but the overwhelming numbers of them, especially in coordination. Eighteen, whittled down to fifteen in the first salvo, and now eleven left.

While Kisuke tries to get to the puppeteer and deals with being continually thwarted by puppets, Ichigo flits around the edges of the group, leaping from tree to tree to stay out of range, biding her time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Dropping down onto a particularly large one as it struggles to move between the trees, driving her sword into its mask before retreating back into the treetops before another Hollow can catch her.

It’s not the sort of fighting style Kisuke expects of her. Given Ichigo’s overwhelming reiatsu and straightforward nature Kisuke thought Ichigo would be the direct sort of fighter, using brute force to defeat her enemies. When Kisuke thinks on it a little more however, it makes sense.

Ichigo has always been alone out here, fighting against Hollows by herself, with two little sisters depending on her to come home. This careful, circumspect fighting style doesn’t quite suit her nature, but it does her circumstances. She’s graceful and conservative with her movements, no wasted effort or meaningless flair to her swordsmanship, which is already better than half the graduating Shinigami coming out of the academy despite the clear lack of formal training. Sure, there are mistakes made, openings missed because she doesn’t know how to look for them, blows that could have been more devastating if Ichigo only had the proper training to make them, but overall Ichigo is competent.

Kisuke reluctantly pulls his attention away to focus on the adversary at hand. He’s not sure he can call the puppeteering Hollow strong, but it’s a clever beast, and it’s fast. The reiatsu strings it uses to control the other hollows are sharp enough to cut and strong enough that Kisuke can’t just pull away from them when they wrap around a limb. Twice now he’s gone for the thing’s face only to have it switch places with a puppet right before he could land the killing blow. He’s tried yanking the strings, trying to pull the Hollow to him, but he just cackles and detaches, sending more threads to wrap around Kisuke’s ankle.

Kisuke thinks, a little longingly, of Shikai, it would be so easy to end this with Benihime released, but it’s against regulations. Unless in truly life-threatening circumstances, Shinigami aren’t meant to be using Shikai out in Rukongai, the surge of pure reiatsu liable to harm residents and tear at the environment. Plus, if Kisuke were to release his Benihime it would doubtlessly bring more attention out to this area then he wants with Ichigo living out here. There’s no way the reiatsu sensors placed throughout the districts would miss it.

‘You’re just being lazy,’ he thinks to himself as he ducks his left hand under his right arm to send another Hadou at the Hollow coming up on his right, blasting it back and shattering its mask. The puppeteer is going strong, but between him and Ichigo the numbers are dwindling, only 5 left outside of the puppeteer.

If Kisuke is being honest with himself, which he tries to be as little as possible, he’s not trying very hard here. There’s no real danger to himself, and little to Ichigo. He’s having fun watching Ichigo fight as he picks off Hollows lazily. She’s fierce and focused, eyes sharp, but with a tilt to her lips that show she’s enjoying herself. Her hairs follows her like a banner as she swings around Hollows and trees, turning on a dime with little effort.

Kisuke has to turn away when the puppeteer throws another hollow in his direction, trying to take his head off with a bite.

“Is that the best you can do?” Kisuke taunts with a laugh as he easily avoids it. It comes back at him with claws that he blocks with Benihime.

“Shit!” Kisuke hears Ichigo exclaim, along with a hiss of pain and he kicks away the Hollow he’s locked in combat with to turn to find her. Her sword arm is caught up in the puppeteer’s strings, lifting her bodily off the ground with a jerk that gives a sickening pop from her shoulder. A Hollow jumps to reach her, mouth open, but Ichigo twists in midair, using her abdominals to lift her legs out of the way and dropping her sword into her other hand so she can meet it sword first, cutting into the mask.

Kisuke wants to run and grab her, cut her free of the threads and make sure she’s safe, but before he can a mass of strings come straight for his head even as the hollow he kicked away regains its footing to launch itself at him. By the time he’s dispatched the Hollow and turned his attention back to Ichigo she’s free of entanglement but the puppeteer has clearly marked her as the weaker of the two and is pressing her hard.

As Kisuke watches the Hollow tries to either trip her up or take off her feet entirely, but Ichigo avoids it by launching herself into the air using reiatsu, landing on a high up tree branch before immediately leaping off again, trying to get distance.

It’s, infuriating somehow, seeing this cowardly creature go after Ichigo rather than him. He can see the blood dripping from Ichigo’s right arm which hangs limply at her side, her sword still clutched white-knuckled in her left. ‘Dislocated,’ Kisuke thinks to himself as he swiftly kills the remain three Hollow puppets, no longer content to mess around. With a twist and a step, he places himself between Ichigo and the puppeteer, who’s chattering annoyingly about how good Ichigo would taste.

“My apologies,” Kisuke says as he swings his sword at the Hollow’s hand, taking it easily, “but I’m afraid there will be no meal for you today.” He aims a second swing at the monster’s head but misses as it pulls itself away using its threads. 

The thing looks around itself desperately, realizing for the first time that all its puppets have been defeated, most already dissipating into reishi. The Hollow’s eyes dart around desperately even as it snarls in Kisuke’s direction, calling him filthy names.

“I’m afraid all your toys have been broken,” Kisuke tells it, keeping its attention on himself as he senses Ichigo moving around to the other side. He spreads out his arms, sword in hand to make a more enticing target. “Perhaps you’re afraid because you know you’re nothing without them?”

“You damn Shinigami!” it roars. “I’ll kill you!”

“You know, just once I wish a Hollow could offer more scintillating conversation, but no, always the same tired refrain,” Kisuke taunts as he cuts down a mess of tangled threads sent at him. Before he can gather himself for an attack however Ichigo surprises both him and the Hollow by appearing above it.

She uses shunpo for speed but then flairs her reiatsu out behind her to arrest her movement, with her teeth she pulls the bangle off her right hand while swinging the sword down with her left, twisting her entire upper body to give even more strength to her blow. Ichigo’s reiatsu immediately swells around her as she tugs off the bangle, the moment she lands the hit on the Hollow’s mask, the creature unable to block the blow with one hand missing and the other still pointed at Kisuke.

“Nicely done,” Kisuke compliments as she lands with a huff, awkwardly sheathing her sword one handed. He sheaths his own as he makes his way to her, concerned for her condition as blood drips to the ground from her fingers.

“Not now!” she hisses at him, “Get the mask pieces.” As she instructs, she kneels by the puppeteer’s body to break off a piece of mask. She envelopes it with her own reiatsu to prevent further erosion before moving to one of the other bodies, arm forgotten in the face of losing money.

Kisuke doesn’t fault her for it, doesn’t try to stop her and make her get treated first. He remembers, viscerally, what it was like to live in Rukongai with no money, and though Ichigo lives in a much nicer district then he did, she also has two younger sisters to care for. So, he immediately turns to the closest body, pulling a chunk off the mask before it can vanish entirely.

Between them they’re able to collect pieces from eight masks before the Hollows disappear into the ether of Soul Society. Ichigo stuffs them into a bag she then ties to her obi before finally sitting back and relaxing.

“Ow,” she murmurs as she settles her arm back. “Well, that went pretty good, and eight mask pieces will get me a tidy sum, uh, unless, do you want some?” She looks reluctant to offer so Kisuke is quick to assure her.

“Don’t worry, Seireitei pays me more than enough, these are yours.” He doesn’t mention that as a Shinigami he’s not eligible to collect the bounty Rukongai districts place on Hollows, and only particularly notorious and dangerous Hollows get bounties from Seireitei. He’d rather she think him doing her a favor.

“Great,” she says before turning her attention to her arm and pulling up on her sleeve, hissing a bit as the circle of lacerations around her wrist becomes evident. “I’m going to be spending half of it at a doctor’s though.”

Kisuke kneels down before her tugging carefully on her haori sleeve to pull it down off her arm, leaving only the blood stained sleeve of the yukata. He looks the wrist over with a practiced eye and determines that none of the lines have dug too deeply into her wrist, even though they’re bleeding a lot.

“No need, I can put the shoulder back into socket and then heal your arm,” he assures her as he uses gentle fingers to feel along her shoulder. Quickly, he slips his hand under the neck, feeling at the swollen and heated skin of her shoulder joint, making her jump and pull back with a hiss.

“You done this before?” she asks doubtfully. Her eyes are narrowed in either mistrust or pain, or perhaps both, so Kisuke tries to put on the most reassuring face he can. Ichigo’s frown deepens, so he’s not sure it’s working, which isn’t surprising seeing as Kisuke has never once in his life been a reassuring person. Has often in fact been told just how creepy and disconcerting most people find him, usually by Hiyori but occasionally by others as well.

“Yes, I have, many times,” he tells her, truthfully. Between training accidents, his work in the second division, and his position as a captain he’s often had to reseat displaced joints, and the cuts on Ichigo’s arms aren’t nearly deep enough to present a challenge even to his somewhat limited Kaido.

Her amber eyes bore into him as she considered his statement before wordlessly offering her arm to Kisuke, turning so he has better access to her shoulder. The moment feels, perhaps more charged than it should, considering this is merely an offer of first aid.

“Ah, you’ll, have to take your yukata off for me to do this,” Kisuke tells her, feeling more awkward than expected. He’d enjoyed earlier, flirting with Ichigo about watching her dress, but that had been before. This is medical, Ichigo’s hurt and Kisuke can’t find any enjoyment in that.

Her glare is ferocious, and well deserved. “What” she said, without inflection. Kisuke feels, a little bit like he’s under the eyes of an untamed beast, as likely to bite him as anything.

“I need to see the joint as it goes back, I don’t want to hurt your further,” he explains hastily. “Here, if you just pull down the sleeve we can get your arm out without too much trouble.” Kisuke carefully starts to do just that with as little jostling as he can manage.

Ichigo appears to believe Kisuke is telling the truth, and not just trying to get her topless, but she still huffs and twists away. Kisuke pulls his hands away immediately, holding them up in a show of innocence.

“Gimme a second, I’ll do it,” she says as she wrangles off her haori, using it to cover up her chest, glaring at Kisuke the entire time, a hint of a challenge in her gaze. After the haori is arranged to Ichigo’s satisfaction she lets Kisuke help her free her arm from her sleeve, wincing with the movement. “Gods, that hurts,” she mutters, breathing evenly through the pain.

“I know, I know,” Kisuke mutters back as he carefully examines the displaced joint. “Alright, this should be pretty straightforward, just hold still, let me do all the work, and try not to bite your tongue.”

“Oka-hrng,” Ichigo starts to say before cutting off with a choked back scream, Kisuke giving her no time to prepare and tense up. The sound the shoulder makes as it’s reseated is cringe inducing, a wet pop of bone moving against cartilage. “You could have warned me!”

“That would have been worse,” Kisuke tells her serenely as he places a glowing hand over the shoulder to ease the paint and swelling, causing Ichigo to relax again. Once that’s done, he moves the hand down to her wrist.

“What are you doing?” Ichigo asks, watching her skin knit back together. It doesn’t quite heal all the way, leaving scabs to wring her wrist still, but it’s days worth of healing in moments. As Kisuke pulls his hand away Ichigo bends and twists her wrist experimentally, seemingly content with what Kisuke has done.

“This is called Kaidou. It’s a way of manipulating spiritual power to restore reiatsu and heal the body.”

“Can any Shinigami do that?”

“No, it’s a delicate art that requires a deft hand with reiatsu and much training and practice. I’m decent at this art, but no master.” Certainly, he could not compare with the likes of Unohana or Tessai, but he was better than most.

“Could you teach me? Something like that, it’s really useful,” Ichigo says wistfully as she pulls her sleeve back on. Blood stains the hem of the sleeve from her wound and remains smeared on her skin after healing.

“As you are now, no. You don’t have the background in Kidou necessary to learn, nor the control in reiatsu,” explains Kisuke, not unkindly, but matter of factly. Ichigo is strong in reiatsu but it’s near wild, untamed. She’s only just barely begun to grasp the basics of reiatsu sensing, a skill vital to Kaidou.

“I suppose this is something they teach at that academy all you Shinigami go to,” she snorts, putting on her haori.

“Only those with the aptitude, and even then just the basics. If you want to know more, you’re expected to learn it from your division or with private tutoring.”

“Sounds complicated, and annoying.”

“Well, it’s not too bad,” Kisuke tells her. “I made it through in a couple of years.”

Kisuke can’t help but laugh at the skeptical look Ichigo sends him as she stands, wiping dirt off her yukata, ever unimpressed with him. Kisuke takes a folded handkerchief out of his pocket to hand to her. She takes it with a huff, wiping off as much blood as she can from her hand.

“Thanks,” she says, passing it back casually before pausing. “Oh, uh sorry, I can have Yuzu wash it for you?”

“It’s fine, you can keep it. Do you mind waiting here for a bit, however?”

“Waiting here? For what?” She looks at him, frowning a little. Even frowning she’s pretty, Kisuke thinks, which is good since she does it so often. A face more suited to seriousness than levity.

“I need to check out the area, see if I can find anything about how they came here. There’s probably a tear to Hueco Mundo and if so I’ll need to seal it,” Kisuke explains with a shrug. It should be close, wherever it is.

“And I can’t go with you, why?”

“You’ll slow me down,” he tells her honestly. “And there’s no point in you coming.”

She huffs a little sardonic laugh, tucking a bit of loose hair behind an ear as she kicks at the ground a little, producing a small cloud of dust.

“I guess you did tell me earlier you say if you wanted me to stay behind.” She crosses her arms defensively, before purposefully relaxing them at her side. It’s body language Kisuke can read easily enough but not quite understand. Earlier she’d been upset at the thought he might not be honest about her usefulness, now she is upset he told the truth?

“It’s not a slight on you, my dear,” he tries to explain. Usually he wouldn’t bother to soothe a slighted ego, can’t quite figure out why he does it now. Except, he doesn’t want Ichigo made at him or left to feel bad about herself. A strange feeling. “It will just be faster for me to go alone, and then we’ll be able to return to Aomatsu sooner.”

“Yeah, okay. Makes sense. I’ll be here, waiting.” Ichigo’s expression has smoothed out and her body language is casual, but Kisuke can’t shake the feeling he hasn’t fully managed to alleviate her disappointment. He’s just not sure whether it’s disappointment in herself or Kisuke.

“Alright. I shouldn’t be long,” he tells her before heading off, refusing to hesitate or linger.

He sets off at a quick pace, tracing the Hollows back to where the arrived.

Senses open as he tracks back through the forest, Kisuke finds a decimated campsite, a dropped bundle of wood, signs the Hollow attacked people in the area. It’s sad, but there’s nothing to be done, so Kisuke moves on quickly when a quick examination shows nothing out of character. The forests of Takaiki are sparser than those of Aomatsu, trees further apart even if they’re taller, sunlight easily piercing the scant canopy. It means more brush underfoot; tall grass, wildflowers, and shrubs filling in the space between trees, which makes following the path of the Hollows easy. However, by the time Kisuke’s tracked them back to where they appeared there’s no sign of any sort of instability or passage from Hueco Mundo.

It’s odd, and unlikely. For that many to come through it would have to be a fairly substantial anomaly. Small tears do happen occasionally, enough to let one or two hollows through, and they can fix themselves with the natural energy of Soul Society, but something of this size should still be present, waiting to be fixed. He reminds Kisuke that he never found the original tear he came to Aomatsu to see, all those weeks ago. He’d gone to the forest that night after following Ichigo home, but there was nothing left in the woods.

“Why is there nothing?” Kisuke mutters to himself, taking the time to search the small clearing the traces of Hollow originate from carefully. There’s nothing though. No sense of anything off. It’s unnerving. Once Kisuke could write off as just a strange one time happening, but twice, and so close together? That points to something else happening. Only Kisuke doesn’t know what it could be.

Somewhat reluctantly, he returns to Ichigo. He wants to stay until he finds something, but he hasn’t any tools to help him and Kisuke doesn’t want to leave Ichigo alone for too long. He’d know immediately if anything with spiritual pressure showed up, and Ichigo can take care of herself, but even still he’s anxious to return to her side. A feeling he refuses to examine deeper.

She’s humming to herself when he arrives, poking around in the forest brush, plucking flowers out of the ground. Peonies, he sees as he gets closer. She seems happy, content at least, despite the fight earlier and her own injury.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Ichigo asks him without turning. He smiles a little, while he hadn’t been trying to hide from her, he’s still impressed she’s able to recognize his reiatsu. Earlier today she couldn’t have done that. Her learning curve is incredible, but he’d already knew that just from how easily she’s been picking up shunpo.

Clever, pretty, talented, and strong. Truly Ichigo could take Seireitei by storm if she wanted to. Selfishly, Kisuke’s glad she’s so resistant to going. He wants to keep her to himself, to be the only one to know about this diamond in the rough hidden in Rukongai. The more time Kisuke spends with Ichigo, the more he gets to know her, the greedier he feels. He finds himself wanting more and more to know her, to see her grow, to be the one that facilitates that growth.

It’s a feeling unlike any he’s had before. He’s always been, obsessive, prone to hoarding in a way. It’s always extended to the people in his life too. For a long time it had been Yoruichi who held all of his attention, but Yoruichi had never been someone he could teach, and growing up with her meant there was little to learn.

Kisuke is ready to admit he wants something from Ichigo, but he’s not entirely sure of the extent of it yet.

“No, but it’s of no concern to you,” he tells her, crouching down beside her and snapping a stem of a particularly lovely lavender colored peony to hold out to her.

“I don’t know why, but it feels pretty ominous to hear you say that,” she huffs, taking the offered flower and adding it to her bouquet which looks like nothing less than a riotous sunset in her hands.

“What are you going to do with the flowers, Ichigo-chan?” He snaps off another one, this one white.

“I’m taking them home. Yuzu will love them. I’ve never seen ones like them in Aomatsu.” Her features soften a little when she talks of Yuzu.

“They’re almost as pretty as you are,” he tells her, slipping the stem of the white peony behind her ear. He cracks a grin as she rolls her eyes at him, but feels as if he’s won something when she doesn’t remove it.

She plucks one last faintly pink peony up and carefully ties the bundle up with the stem of another plant before standing.

“Are you ready to go? If we hurry, we should get back in time for dinner,” she says looming over him as he remains crouched on the ground.

“Am I invited to dinner, Ichigo-chan?” Kisuke smiles up at her. She looks lovely, even disheveled as she is from the fight, or maybe because of it. Hair falling around her face charmingly, burnished gold in the late afternoon sun streaming through the canopy, her eyes bright from the previous exertion. Her yukata has loosened a little, just enough that Kisuke can see the dip of her collarbone. “You know, I believe I killed more Hollows than you did, perhaps you’ll want to fulfill our wager?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that bet.” Ichigo attempts to kick one of Kisuke’s legs out from under him, snorting when he jumps up and back just to avoid it.

“No? I happen to remember it differently.”

“Perhaps your memory is going in your old age, Shinigami-san.”

Kisuke clutches at his heart, face an over-exaggerated expression of hurt. “You wound me, darling!”

“I will wound you if you don’t shut up.” She turns away but not before Kisuke spots the upward tug of her lip. She’s amused by his antics no matter what she says.

“I suppose, if you refuse to honor our wager, I will settle for dinner instead.”

“Who said you were coming for dinner?” she asks before taking off, back towards Aomatsu. Her hair whips out behind her, almost smacking him in the face as she shunpos past.

“Now, that’s not quite fair,” Kisuke mutters to himself before following her. She’s slowly than he is, he could easily overcome her, but sometimes, part of the fun is the chase.

* * *

In the evening, after a delicious dinner made by Yuzu, who’d been ecstatic at the peonies and horrified at the blood on Ichigo’s yukata, Kisuke steps out of the small apartment preparing to set off back to Seireitei. He’ll arrive back in the early hours of the morning, but he needs to attend to his division tomorrow and so can’t delay his return.

Already his mind is on what he’ll have to do tomorrow, chief among them checking the reports of the last couple of months looking for any more similar incidences to what occurred today. He’ll also have to make sure to dodge Hiyori as he does so, unwilling to do anything that might pique her interest out here.

“Thank you very much for letting me stay for dinner,” he tells Ichigo as she walks him out, only half paying attention.

“Well, I figure I owed you that, for fixing me up,” she shrugs, standing close enough the sleeve of her yukata, the same she was wearing earlier in the day before Kisuke had dragged her off to Takaiki, brushes against his. The air outside is cool in the late autumn, but not frigid, and the night is still around them.

“Think nothing of it,” Kisuke murmurs, considering whether it’s worth it to have a few unseated Shinigami go through the reports with him. It would be faster, but Hiyori is much more likely to catch on.

“And I figure I owe you this too,” he hears her say before a warm and soft pressure lands on his cheek. It’s gone as quickly as it arrived, leaving Kisuke to swivel his head to face Ichigo, mouth agape in surprise.

He can’t see her face clearly, backlight as she is by the open door of the apartment, and with the dim light of the stars above, but she clears her throat awkwardly and shuffles back into the apartment quickly.

“Well, good night, get back safe, or whatever,” she mutters before practically slamming the door in Kisuke’s face. Behind the thin wooden barrier Kisuke can hear the murmur of Karin and Yuzu saying something before Ichigo loudly tells them both to ‘Shut up!’, which results in poorly muffled giggling.

“Good night, my dear! Thank you for a wonderful evening!” Kisuke calls through the door, making the giggling turn into laughter.

“Oh my god! Just leave already,” Ichigo screams out, furious.

Kisuke laughs as he runs off, just as a loud thumping comes from the wall between Ichigo and her neighbor, the irate man telling all of them to be quiet. The smile lingers on his face the entire way back to Seireitei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's ignore that Peonies don't bloom in Fall okay, they're magic spirit peonies, they can bloom when they want.
> 
> Someone mentioned making a Discord server for my writing, and I'm not entirely opposed to the idea, but I don't know if people would like that or use it? Please let me know in a comment.
> 
> Also, just a reminder, comments do actually really inspire me to keep writing. I reread the comments for this fic and banged out four thousand words today.


	6. Fanart by Euca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve look what a delightful gift I got!!!

  
  
Fanart of Kisuke healing Ichigo by Euca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to post the art as a separate chapter so that Euca can get the attention/credit her art deserves. 
> 
> The next chapter will be up sometime before the new year. Thanks to Euca and everyone's super nice comments I've been very motivated to write and have gotten a good chunk done already.
> 
> Thank you again SO SO much to Euca. I legit cried receiving this, but in a good way, which was novel after this hell year.


	7. Bird of Paradise - Liberty, magnificence, good perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Could a depressed person do this?  
> *posts two chapters within a week*

Ichigo doesn’t quite know what to make of Urahara Kisuke. He’s a Shinigami, and probably a powerful one at that, although Ichigo doesn’t really have a basis of comparison. He’s not exactly nice, and he definitely isn’t safe, but he hasn’t tried anything untoward with Ichigo or her sisters. She thought, the first time she met him in the forest all those weeks ago, that he’d drag her off to the academy. That’s what all the townspeople said would happen should she cross paths with a Shinigami, but he hadn’t. When he tracked her down the next day and confronted her while she was with her sisters, she thought that was it, he’d take her away or he’d hurt her, but he’d just paid for their meal and left.

It made her nervous. She spent days afterwards just waiting for Shinigami to descend on to Aomatsu and force her away. Tense and short-tempered, she hovered around Yuzu and Karin, mostly getting in their way, spreading her anxiety to them. She didn’t know what Urahara Kisuke wanted, didn’t know how to predict him, and that made him dangerous to the lifestyle Ichigo and her sisters and dug out for themselves since arriving in Soul Society.

It’s now been six more visits since that first meeting, and Ichigo can’t say she has any better idea. Sometimes, Urahara is almost too familiar, flirtatious and bold, giving gifts and compliments until Ichigo yells at him to stop. Other times he’s more distant and distracted, talks vaguely of Seireitei and hovers at her elbow. Either way he’s, watchful, observant, intense. Prone to staring. Tense whenever they walk in town, relaxed whenever fighting. Smiles like it’s practiced, but sometimes looks at her like he’s never seen anything like her before.

Karin scowls and huffs and rolls her eyes whenever he comes around, refuses to use his name, but still takes the gifts he brings her (fruit from Seireitei hothouses, a scarf, a beautifully embroidered temari ball) with genuine, if reluctant, thanks. Yuzu is much more polite, as always, truly enjoying Urahara’s visits and always effusively praising his gifts. She’s taken to looking between Urahara and Ichigo significantly, until Ichigo scowls at her, like she knows something Ichigo doesn’t.

It does make Ichigo happy that Urahara pays attention to her sisters, knows their names, their interests, what they do during the day. He appears to be genuinely interested and to honestly like them. But then, Ichigo isn’t sure if she could tell if he was faking.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

It’s Friday, which means if he’s going to visit it will probably be today, but he doesn’t visit every Friday, never promises a day he’ll return. It’s a cold day in Aomatsu, but the sky is clear, and the scarf that Urahara brought her keeps Ichigo warm as she heads into the forest. She spends a lot of her time there; hunting hollows, practicing, picking up food or materials. Today it’s for practice, and maybe hollow hunting, if she gets lucky. Although, they still have money from the last time she went hollow hunting with Urahara. A tidy little nest egg that eases the thread of tension wrapped around Ichigo’s lungs whenever she considers their finances.

Once in her favorite clearing she sets the boxed lunch from Yuzu under the base of a tree and takes a deep breath. She’s been trying meditation, trying to hear that voice (voices?) clearly, but it remains wordless mutterings. Like a conversation in a distant room. Dreams plague Ichigo at night, but by the time she wakes up their gone, slipping from her mind like water between fingers. The tighter she clutches the less she holds.

She’s tried asking Urahara for more advice, but he’d simply smiled at her and told her it would happen when she was ready.

Ichigo stretches her arms as she walks to the center of the clearing, pulls her shoulders back, twists her spine, reaches down to touch her toes once she gets there. She breathes through the stretch and straightens. Tries to empty her mind and fails. Ichigo’s never mastered that trick.

With a last roll of her shoulders Ichigo drops into a stance and draws her sword. It would be better if she had someone to spar with. It would probably be best if she’d ever had any sort of training. Still, practice is good for her. Keeps her stamina up, keeps her in shape. And lately she’s been trying to copy some of the things she’s seen Urahara do. She’s not sure how good she is at it, but it feels like it’s maybe helpful.

Last week she took out a singular Hollow at the edge between Aomatsu and the neighboring district. The fight was faster and easier than usual, the monster never coming close to hitting her. Perhaps the Hollow was just that weak, it’s certainly possible, but Ichigo likes to think she’s getting a little better, a little strong and faster.

Ichigo gets to work quickly. Slashes, and thrusts. Pretend blocks and parries. Falls into a rhythm and loses herself to the exercise. This is probably the closest Ichigo gets to an empty mind, here with a sword in her hand. Meditation in motion. Sometimes she even feels like she can understand that voice (or is it voices?) in her head.

Ichigo doesn’t know how long she’s been working, but it can’t have been too long, when she gives a small aborted upward sweep before lunging into a sharp thrust, blade facing towards the sky. It’s a move she’s seen Urahara do to a hollow, a feint before an attack. Once in the Hollow Urahara twisted his sword before slashing down, a devastating wound left behind.

“You should lead off with your front foot, opposite your sword hand. Push off against the ground harder.”

The words come from directly behind Ichigo and she swings around wildly, sword edge first, at the interloper. Her zanpakutou whistles through thin air as Urahara leaps back easily, amused smile on his face.

“Don’t do that,” hisses Ichigo, heart beating far more quickly than it was before, even with the exercise. Urahara likes to, play this game, maybe, where sometimes he’ll let Ichigo sense him before he arrives and sometimes just shows up behind her and startles her. She knows she can only pick up on his reiatsu when he lets her. Ichigo doesn’t know how he hides his own so well when she can’t even hide her already bangled dampened reiatsu, especially since she’s pretty sure Urahara has more than her. He must right? He’s a fully trained Shinigami and Ichigo’s just a girl in the woods waving a sword around.

“Sorry, sorry, Ichigo-chan,” he tells her insincerely, hands raised. He wears a self-effacing expression, looking like butter wouldn’t melt, but it rings false to Ichigo.

“Yeah, sure,” she scoffs, lowering her sword a little.

“I was serious, however. You don’t have as much upper body strength as me, so you need to push off the ground harder to get leverage.”

Ichigo huffs, not angry but frustrated. Embarrassed, maybe. To be caught copying him, and then to not even do it well. She wants to learn though. Wants to get stronger, to better protect herself. And maybe to get stronger for herself. Seeing the kind of things Urahara could do, inspired a strange sort of longing in Ichigo. Fanned the embers of a banked fire in Ichigo that she hadn’t known existed.

“Show me?” she asks.

“Of course!”

Suddenly, Kisuke is there, directly in front of her, sword aiming for her shoulder. Ichigo barely has the time to twist away, sweeping out and down to force Urahara’s sword down and away from her. He backs off immediately, several yards away in a moment, expression calm, body relaxed. More at home in a fight than anywhere else. Casually, he sheathes his swords.

“Why did you do that?” asks Ichigo, breathing hard. She feels, not upset exactly, maybe put out? Urahara was serious about that attack, would have stabbed her if she hadn’t been able to avoid it. Although, part of Ichigo is aware that she’s seen him more faster. He’d been serious, but he’d only moved at a speed precisely calculated to push Ichigo but not overwhelm her.

“Hmm? Why, Ichigo-chan, you asked me to show you,” Urahara responds cheerfully.

“Ugh.” Ichigo rolls her eyes, feeling exasperated.

“Well? You saw it, why don’t you give it your own try?” He lifts his hand and beckons her.

Ichigo considers it, but only for a moment, and then without a word launches herself at Kisuke. She doesn’t attempt the maneuver immediately though, instead dodging around Urahara’s side, forcing him to turn, hearing the ring of metal as he draws his sword. Ichigo gives a short jab, causing Urahara to back off just a step, too close to meet it with his own sword, giving her more room to push up with her foot as Urahara instructed, finally attempted the sweep and thrust.

But, then, before she can make contact, she hesitates, feels herself pulling her blow. She doesn’t want to hurt Urahara, she’s never hurt anyone with a sword, only Hollows.

“ _Don’t back down_ ,” a voice screaming in her head, anger and frustration.

“ _Keep pressing_ ,” a voice whispering in her mind, disappointment and reproach.

The clang of metal on metal, the vibration up her arm, pulls her back to the present. To Urahara’s penetrating gaze and implacable strength. Easily holding her sword at bay as his eyes trace over her face.

“That was better,” he begins, “but you lack determination.”

Ichigo disengages, almost stumbling back. Presses a hand to her head where it’s throbbing. She feels something like an echo or a ringing in her head.

“Are you okay?” Urahara asks her, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, I just…” she trails off, unsure how to finish that. They say Shinigami talk to their swords, and Urahara confirmed it, but no one has ever mentioned _two_ voices.

“Is it your zanpakutou spirit?” Urahara asks, taking a step closer. There’s sharp interest in his features, the pressure of his regard making Ichigo feel like a bug under a magnifying glass, a butterfly pinned to a board. The weight of Urahara’s attention always a heavy thing, but never quite so pointed.

“… can a person have two zanpakutou spirits?” Ichigo asks, hesitantly, pulling her eyes away from the Shinigami in front of her. The pair stand only a few feet apart, both gripping their swords. But while Ichigo stares at the ground, Urahara stares at her.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “Zanpakutou spirits are, private, personal. Shinigami tend not to talk about theirs except with people they’re very close with. There’s not been much research into them because it feels, gauche, to intrude on that relationship. Any time any sort of study or examination has been proposed the uproar has been, foreboding. There are rumors of course of some people having two, but it’s not something I’ve ever been able to confirm personally.”

“So, you only have one?” Ichigo confirms.

“Yes. My Benihime would never allow another,” he says with humor and fondness. “She’s rather, possessive.”

“You talk like they have personalities.”

“They do. They are as much individuals as Shinigami are, but they are eminently suited to the Shinigami who wields them.” He pauses, considers her, lifts a hand like he might touch her shoulder but then lets it drop.

“What are they?”

“Zanpakutou Spirits? They are a reflection of their wielder’s soul, their match in every way. Each spirit amplifies their wielder’s strength and challenges them to be better. However, spirits are prideful and will not lend their strength unless the believe their wielder to be worthy of it. Learning your Zanpakutou, it’s something of a battle or a dance.” He pauses to eye Ichigo’s doubtful expression. “You don’t believe me?”

“No, it’s not that,” she shakes her head. “I just, this all seems so fantastical. Swords, with spirits?”

“It’s not really the sword that has the spirit, after all each spirit is unique to the one who possesses it. The Zanpakutou acts like a conduit in a way, it carries the potential within it and then the Shinigami shapes that potential. I don’t know where you picked that sword up, but it must have been from a Shinigami who hadn’t yet manifested a spirit, and so the blade was still an Asauchi. How long did it take for your sword to change into the one you have now?” He gestures to the black and silver blade Ichigo still holds.

“What? It didn’t take any time at all,” replies Ichigo, holding up her sword for inspection. “I was in the forest, I heard fighting, when I got there, the Shinigami was dead but there was a sword on the ground. I grabbed it when the Hollow attacked me and struck the Hollow. After that, it was like it is now.” She looks nervously to Urahara. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that…”

“Why? I’m not mad. If you didn’t pick up the sword, you would have died. It became yours the moment you set your hand on it. It’s phenomenal how quickly the sword changed from an Asauchi though. It’s, rare, but the combination of your strong reiryoku and the life or death situation must have galvanized the change.” Urahara looks considering and that feeling of being a butterfly pinned to a board has returned.

“Is it really so weird?” asks Ichigo, with feigned casualness. She knows, viscerally, that she isn’t like other souls. There are none near like her in Aomatsu. Even Karin, who certainly has noticeable reiatsu, doesn’t measure close to Ichigo. However, she sort of thought, well, if she’s not like most of the souls out here in Rukongai, then she must be like Shinigami.

“Weird? It’s extraordinary. It can take years, decades even. Some never manage it. It speaks to your potential,” there’s excitement it Urahara’s voice and he gestures with the hand not still holding his sword. He takes a small step closer to Ichigo.

“My potential as a Shinigami,” says Ichigo doubtfully, straightening her spine but not backing away.

“Yes, obviously.”

“I said I wasn’t going to be one.” Agitated, Ichigo shuffles her feet, pulls her ponytail over her shoulder and then flicks it back.

“You don’t want to attend the academy because you don’t want leave your sisters, I understand that, but that doesn’t change the fact that you could be great.” Urahara speaks with conviction, no doubt to be seen in his demeanor or heard in his voice.

Ichigo pushes a harsh breath between her lips, setting her bangs to fluttering. Scrubbing at her face with her hand she looks around the clearing, thinking about what to say.

Aomatsu is mostly a pine forest, so the trees are still green in the middle of winter, but the grass under their feet is brown. There’s no snow, the past few days warm enough to melt what fell a week ago. Ichigo, likes it here, in the forest. It’s calming, and the forest is lovely, and the townspeople avoid it. Ichigo doesn’t much care for the town of Aomatsu. The people aren’t bad, for the most part, but they’d prefer it if she left, she knows. She’s thought, once or twice, that if she did become a Shinigami, she might be able to offer her sisters a better life. Right now, all three of them have to work hard to survive, and their home, though warm in affection, has little in the way of creature comforts.

“I don’t want to leave them, and I can’t take them with me, can I?” Ichigo asks, quietly.

“Students live in dorms that house only students. Karin-chan has enough reiatsu that she could make a decent Shinigami someday, but they won’t take her for a few more years yet, she’s not powerful enough for early admission. Yuzu-chan would only be taken if the academy were provided enough incentive.”

“Incentive?”

“Money,” Urahara shrugs. “Some of the more powerful families and clans in Seireitei ensure entry for even their most talentless progeny.”

Ichigo snorts, shaking her head.

“Mmm, it’s shortsighted of them. Joining the Shinigami Corps is prestigious, but dangerous, and only the most powerful of the clans are allowed to send their members to the academy and then not have them join the Corps afterwards.”

“Seireitei seems, more complicated than I thought.”

“It’s not really. The people with the money and the power make the rules and the rest of us follow them,” Urahara cracks a grin. “or we don’t. If you’re clever enough you can get around anything.”

“I’m sure you think yourself very clever.”

“Well, being as humble as I am, I’d never brag, you understand.” The grin widens, as the man lifts a hand as if to hide it.

“Sure,” Ichigo rolls her eyes.

“What did yours say?” Urahara asks suddenly, changing the subject. At Ichigo’s confused blinking he elaborates. “Your Zanpakutou spirit. It was speaking to you wasn’t it? When you attacked me?”

“Didn’t you say Zanpakutou spirits are private?” She’s teasing, mostly. Doesn’t much mind the thought of telling Urahara. Maybe because she lacks the context of them that other Shinigami have, or maybe because Urahara is her only source of information on all things Shinigami.

“Ah, but you and me, we’re close aren’t we, my dear?” He leans closer to her, smile sharp, and before she can stop him he presses a kiss to the corner of her lips, laughing when she shoves him away with a hand to the face.

Since she kissed him on the cheek four visits ago, he’s been pressing his luck more and more. A kiss on the hand, another pressed to her temple, one brushed against the rise of her cheek. Ichigo always brushes him off, pushes him away, glowers and glares, but she’s never told him to stop.

“They agreed with you. They didn’t like that I… I hesitated,” she says, partly to distract Urahara.

“Hesitance doesn’t suit you, Ichigo-chan,” Urahara tells her, switching from playful to serious quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ichigo shrugs, uncomfortable. “I’ve just, I’m not used to fighting people.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s one good thing about the academy. You’re trained against people, sparing with them.”

“Stop trying to talk me into this dumb academy.”

“I’m not, I’m not. I’d hate to share you, my dear.” He says it playfully, with a smile, but Ichigo thinks he’s serious.

It should be scary. She still doesn’t understand Urahara, or what he wants from her, but she’s starting to think, that maybe, just maybe, all he wants is her.

“If you’re not used to fighting people… how about we change that, Ichigo-chan,” he offers, stepping back and dropping into a readied stance.

“Alright, I could stand to burn off some energy. But don’t blame me if you get too tired to run home, okay Shinigami-san.”

“My dear you will regret that,” he tells her before lunging.

Ichigo laughs as she meets him, sword first. Somehow, she doesn’t think she will.

* * *

Kisuke’s spent the last two months going through reports, reading mission summaries, even questioning Shinigami in other divisions, and he has almost nothing to show for it. He’s tired of looking. He’s snuck into and out of each division multiple times, because even as a captain Kisuke can’t just request access to other divisions reports without a reason, with little to show for it.

He has an excellent report on the weaknesses and holes in each division’s security now, but no proof that anything unusual, much less sinister is going on in Rukongai.

He takes the report on security to Yoruichi, finds her lounging in a training hall in her division, lazily gazing over division members at work, exercising, sparing, polishing their sword form. Technically, Kisuke shouldn’t be here, witnessing this, he is no longer a member of the second, and divisions are often secretive about the training their members undergo. However, no one but Sui-Feng would dare to demand he leave, not when he wears his white haori, and Sui-Feng is somewhere else.

“Hello, Kisuke-chan,” Yoruichi says. “Want a snack?” She holds up the plate of rice crackers she’s been eating off of. Her legs sprawl widely as she sits cross-legged, arms and back bare as usual, her own white haori missing.

“No, thank you,” Kisuke tells her, he starts to settle down beside her, but she stops him.

“Hey, you,” she calls into the crowd, point at a young man working out alone. He raises his head and points at himself in a ‘who me?’ gesture. “Yeah, you, go find a cushion for Urahara-taichou. Be quick.” She claps her hands twice as the man takes off.

“That’s not really necessary, Yoruichi-san.” Kisuke says, laughing a little at the near fear in the young man’s face as he ran for the nearest cushion. Others in the hall are now sneaking looks at the pair of them, having realized Kisuke is there. He doesn’t recognize any of them, they must have joined after his time.

“Can’t be seen making another captain sit on the dirty floor,” Yoruichi explains, somehow managing to shove three crackers into her mouth without losing any of her innate elegance. The floor is spotless in this area of the training hall.

Kisuke can’t help but laugh a little. He’s never been so precious as to complain about something like that. Has never been so aware of his dignity. Yoruichi has though. As soon as he made Captain, even during those first uncomfortable years when they barely spoke, Yoruichi always protected his dignity when she could. Stopped gossip when she heard it, punished those who spoke disrespectfully in her hearing, never interfering in how he ran his own division, but always ready to correct those outside of it. In public she gave him as much respect as she did any other captain, in private she was still just Yoruichi.

The young man returns with a cushion under his arm, bowing respectfully before placing it carefully on the floor, next to Yoruichi.

“Sir,” he says, gesturing hospitably. “Can I bring you anything, Urahara-taichou?”

“No, you can go back to training,” Kisuke says, settling himself. Waits until the Shinigami does to address Yoruichi. “Is everyone in your division so simpering?”

“I think they’re training it into them at the academy now,” Yoruichi tells him, humming thoughtfully. She snaps a cracker and lets it fall to crumbs, passing golden eyes over the hall. The Shinigami gathered look young, for the most part. Uniforms stiff with starch, skin unblemished by scars, eyes not yet clouded by regret.

“How regrettable,” Kisuke murmurs, just loud enough for Yoruichi to hear. She barks out a laugh that draws furtive glances from the crowd. Kisuke is certain that after he leaves, and as soon as they are out of earshot of Yoruichi, gossip will begin. Everyone knows the captain of the Twelfth division used to be part of the Second. Everyone knows, or thinks they know, how loyal he is to Yoruichi, some say more than loyal. He doesn’t visit here often though.

“They don’t make them like they used to, but isn’t your division the same?”

“I spend as little time as possible with new recruits, I leave them to Hiyori’s tender mercies,” explains Kisuke. He hasn’t the patience for newbies, and Hiyori says he scares them all anyway.

“She has none.”

“That’s the point.” The grin Kisuke sends Yoruichi inspires an answering one, sharp toothed and dangerous.

“So why are you here? Didn’t even go through the front gate. You realize some guards are going to get in trouble for that,” Yoruichi says, elbow on knee, chin on the heel of her hand. Around them swords clang, and people grunt.

“They should,” he drawls, pulling the report out of his robe. He passes it to her. She flips thought it lazily, skimming its contents, before raising her brows at him.

“Got bored did you? This sort of thing, it isn’t really your job is it?” Security is the Second divisions purview after all.

“Old habits die hard, but actually, I did have a point. I needed to look at some records.”

“Oh? I suppose you wouldn’t be Kisuke-chan if you weren’t up to something,” Yoruichi teases, sending him a lightning quick smile that’s all teeth, before returning to the report in her hands.

“It’s nothing,” Kisuke tells her, sighing.

“Is it?” She sets piercing eyes on Kisuke.

“It’s probably nothing,” he corrects.

“Tell me anyway.”

He sighs again, settles himself a little more comfortably on the cushion. The noise in the hall covers their conversation but he sets up a bakudou anyway, just in case. Nothing noticeable, just something to prevent being overheard.

“I thought there was something weird going on out in Rokungai. Groups of Hollows appearing, but no evidence of how they got here, no tears, no Hollows strong enough to make their way without one.”

“How often?”

“I’ve found maybe five instances in the last six months. Two I know of for sure, because I was there. Three in reports, including twice when a Shinigami was killed due to bad intel.”

“Seems a little too often for coincidence,” Yoruichi muses.

“Aside from the number of Hollows, which range from five to eighteen, and then fact that there’s been no tear left to seal, there are no similarities. Different districts with vastly different environments, different investigating divisions, varying levels of intel. There doesn’t seem to be anything gained from this, nothing that can be manipulated.”

“The death of Shinigami?” Yoruichi points out, thrusting a cracker at Kisuke’s face before shoving it into her mouth.

“The death of two low level Shinigami isn’t unusual. You know that.” It’s the unvarnished truth. Shinigami die all the time, a couple a month, three or four even. To Hollows, to training accidents. There’s a reason the overall numbers of Shinigami haven’t changed significantly in years. The academy graduates just enough to replenish what’s lost.

“Hmm, so, there’s not real evidence anything is wrong.”

“Right,” agrees Kisuke.

“Except your gut.”

“Yes, and how trustworthy can that be,” Kisuke jokes, laughing at himself.

“I trust it,” Yoruichi shrugs, shoving another cracker in her mouth. “If you think something weird’s going on, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.”

It surprises Kisuke a little, though it shouldn’t. He knows Yoruichi trusts him, has trusted him with her life, her secrets. But this is a little different, this is trusting Kisuke’s judgement.

“Thank you,” he tells her.

“Whatever, now, let’s talk about something more interesting. Tell me more about your little sweetheart out in East 42nd.” The look on Yoruichi’s face is nothing short of predatory, leaving Kisuke to contemplate using one of his newly discovered security holes to escape.

Unfortunately, Yoruichi knows where he lives, so he resigns himself to gossip.

* * *

Sometimes, Kisuke wonders how often others talk to their Zanpakutou spirits. It can’t possibly be as often as Benihime talks to him, forcing her presence on him more nights than not in his dreams if Kisuke doesn’t meditate. She has an opinion on everything he does, whether it’s that he should eat more fish or get more sun or not have added that bit of Hollow venom to his latest experimental concoction that landed him in the Fourth Division after the resulting cloud of vapor poisoned him. She also has an opinion on everyone he meets, usually negative.

Yoruichi she alternatively loves and hates depending on the day, Tessei she admires the competency but finds too quiet, Mayuri she loathes with a passion, to the point Kisuke has stopped bringing her down into the lab, and Hiyori she finds uncouth and unrefined. They are, all of them, she contends, ultimately unworthy of Kisuke.

Despite the endless commentary on his life, his choices, and his acquaintances however Benihime has been awfully quiet on the topic of Ichigo. She’s noted numerous issues with the 42nd District ranging from unwashed residents to dirty streets. She’s laughed at Kisuke’s continued trips out to the forest. But she’s said nothing on Ichigo herself, or her sisters.

Kisuke supposes it’s been too good to be true, her continued silence on this particular topic, so when he finds himself within his own inner world that night he’s unsurprised. His inner world is a massive castle, lying at the heart of an endless labyrinth made of featureless white walls. He stands, as he usually does, on the roof of that castle, gazing out at the labyrinth that extends into the horizon.

“Hello, Kisuke,” a low, melodic voice greets him. He turns around to face her, his beautiful, deadly, Benihime.

He’s heard that the new Kuchiki girl has what is being called one of the most beautiful Zanpakutou in Seireitei, but he can’t help but think, despite never having seen it, that they’re wrong. How could any be more beautiful than his Benihime?

The first time he saw her, still a green academy student, not far removed from the Rukongai, he’d thought her a goddess. How could such a being be meant for him? She’d been so unimpressed with him at the time, so derisive of everything he was. They grew together though, both up and closer. Bringing out the best in each other, or maybe the worst. Both of them deadly, both a little prone to cruelty, but also, both of them, loyal to a fault.

She stands, lovely as ever, framed perfectly against the bright blue sky in her layers of deep red robes, embroidered in gold thread in flowering patterns, golden obi tied intricately behind her. Her black and red hair is perfect as ever in its loops and curls, falling nearly to the ground down her back. Her painted lips stand out blood red against her pale skin. Delicate hands, fine boned as a bird, fold over her sword form, weapon never far from reach with her.

Kisuke smiles a little to see her feet poking out just under the hem of her heavy kimono. Blood red zori sandals with thick wooden souls. Just like the ones Ichigo wears.

“Hello, Benihime,” Kisuke greets her in return, bowing his head respectfully. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“We need to talk,” she tells him. It would be ominous but Benihime starts most conversations this way.

“About what?” he asks in return, the next step in their conversational dances.

“What do you think?” It’s a trap, of course.

“We can talk about anything you want, Benihime,” he sidesteps.

She snorts, less delicately than her appearance would suggest. But then, Benihime has always been less delicate than she appears.

“Don’t be coy,” she tells him. “The girl, Kisuke.”

“Yoruichi-san?” Kisuke frowns, confused. Benihime has never referred to Yoruichi as that before, nor anyone else that he can remember.

Benihime rolls her eyes. “Of course not, fool. The girl from the forest.”

Kisuke sighs. He should have expected this of course. It’s unlike Benihime to remain quiet for long. He sits on the edge of the roof, turning his back on Benihime. A dangerous move when she might pitch him off the roof for his rudeness, but if she does, he won’t have to have this conversation.

“What about Ichigo-chan?” He asks when she doesn’t immediately kick him into the labyrinth.

“You must realize things can’t continue as they are?” Benihime is condescending, but not without compassion.

“How do you mean?”

She appears in front of him and a swirl of robes and hair, floating in thin air, high enough that he has to look up just a little to see her face.

“You like her, don’t you, Kisuke?” Her expression is unreadable.

“I find her potential interesting,” Kisuke explains. Benihime rolls her eyes at him again, the only sign of exasperation on her face. She does take her hands off the sword though, letting it float beside her as she sets her hands on her hips.

“You _like_ her, and because of that, things can’t go on like this.”

Kisuke sighs, rubbing at his brow.

“Why not? Things seem to be going well, I think at least.” He clinches his jaw, feels the muscle jump at the hinge of it. Kisuke hates being this obvious, being this seen. Of course, trying to hide anything from Benihime is an exercise in futility, but he’d enjoyed the illusion of privacy he’d had before.

He’s never, done something like this before. He’s not even entirely sure what he’s doing. Kisuke doesn’t date, he doesn’t pursue people. He’s slept with people, but it was meaningless physicality, nothing emotional involved. And he is emotionally involved by this point.

“What is it that you want, Kisuke?” Benihime asks, not unkindly.

“Do I have to want anything? Isn’t this enough? I’m enjoying myself. For the first time in decades I’m not bored.”

“You know yourself better than that,” Benihime admonishes, reaching out a hand with long, red painted nails to brush through Kisuke’s bangs.

He does. It won’t be enough for long, these occasional visits, this cautious interaction. He’ll want more and more. He already wants more.

“She doesn’t want to come to Seireitei. I won’t force her.” Kisuke moves his head away from Benihime’s hand, cautious of her sharp nails.

“She doesn’t want to leave her sisters. Come now, Kisuke, you’re smarter than this.”

“I’m not going to press her. Not yet.”

“You may not be given a choice,” she warns.

“What do you mean?”

“A treasure like her? She won’t be left unfound forever.”

“She has been found. I found her.”

“But you haven’t claimed her. You’re greedy Kisuke, that’s for sure, but there are those greedier than you, and they won’t care for her reluctance.” She vanishes then, into the depths of the labyrinth or perhaps the castle. Kisuke could look for her if he wanted, but Benihime won’t be found unless she wants to be. So instead he’s left alone, with only her words, until he finally wakes up.

* * *

A week later a meeting is called by the Captain Commander, asking for available captains. It isn’t a mandatory meeting, and so Kisuke is prepared to ignore it. It wants to go out to Aomatsu tomorrow, and to do that he needs to finish compiling the results of his latest experiment today. Kisuke rarely attends meetings that aren’t mandatory anyway, his absence will not be noteworthy, and his presence will not be missed.

Moments after the last of the notification of meeting goes out however a Jigokuchou arrives.

“Come to the meeting, Kisuke,” Yoruichi’s voice rings out from the creature. It flies away once its message is delivered, not waiting for a response.

Yoruichi doesn’t care if he attends meeting, she often skips out on them herself. There are, after all, a number of meetings in a year, nearly none of them important. If she wants him to come, there must be a reason. Perhaps something to do with the Hollows in Rukongai?

Kisuke swings his haori on and stops briefly to grab Benhime from the stand in his office before heading to the assembly hall. He can’t tell who’s there, the walls of the building designed to prevent such a thing, but there are certain captains he expects to see at most of these meetings.

The Soutaichou, obviously, Yoruichi, since she requested he come, Unohana unless she was busy with something in the Fourth Division, Hirako if he’s bored enough, Kuchiki almost definitely, Kyouraku maybe, Muguruma is unlikely, Hitsugaya probably, Kisuke would be shocked if Zaraki shows, and Ukitake will come unless his health was poor, in which case he might send his lieutenant for him.

Kisuke prepares himself mentally for what is sure to be an annoying meeting, most of them are after all, before sliding open the door, head bowed as he enters.

As soon as the door is open however his head shoots up. There, forced to kneel before the Soutaichou, arms bound in a high level bakudou behind her, is Ichigo. Her orange hair slides over her shoulder, loose and messy, no sign of the strawberry hairpin Kisuke has never seen her without. Nearby, not in line, stands Lieutenant Aizen, holding her black sword, mouth open like he’s been cut off midsentence.

As he enters, heart in his throat, mind racing the occupants turn as one to greet him, all except Ichigo who’s facing the floor.

“Ah, Urahara-taichou, we didn’t expect you,” Yamamoto rumbles, which causes Ichigo to gasp, neck twisting to pin Kisuke with accusing eyes. The other captains in the room notice of course, exchanging wordless looks around, except Yoruichi who stares only at the bound Ichigo.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Kisuke says with false cheer, snapping closed the door behind him. “What seems to be the trouble here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that would not end. I just kept adding more and more scenes. It is definitely the longest chapter. So Merry Christmas I guess? Don't kill me for the cliff hanger?
> 
> I love you all. Please review. Your reviews inspire my writing!
> 
> Also, if you missed it, go back a chapter and check out Euca's amazing fan art!


	8. Edelweiss - Devotion, courage, nobility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick Edit to add more Fan Art by Euca to this chapter. She continues to be incredible and make me cry, but like in a good way.

No one speaks after Kisuke asks his question, and he hesitates to take up his position in line by Hitsugaya, who looks distinctly unimpressed with what’s occurring around him. Yamamoto is staring at Kisuke with a gimlet eye, face passive.

“Aizen-fukutaichou was just explaining how he found this criminal,” Yamamoto says after an awkward moment of silence. Although, perhaps, only Kisuke is feeling awkward, trying desperately to keep composure and not stare at Ichigo.

“Criminal?” Kisuke asks, trying to modulate his voice, he feels like it’s too high pitched to be normal. He hasn’t felt this nervous since, well, he’s probably never been this nervous, aware that one wrong move could have disastrous consequences. “And what are her crimes?”

“Theft of an Asauchi, unlawful possession of a Zanpakutou, suspicion of murder of a Shinigami, and assault of a Lieutenant.” Aizen answers, voice soft and passive. He looks almost sorry to be listing them out, face arranged in sympathy, eyes almost gentle as he looks down at Ichigo’s huddle form. Kisuke wants to rip his tongue out and pluck out his eyes. Wants to cut his hands off for daring to raise one against Ichigo. It’s his bakudou keeping Ichigo on the floor. It’s his fault this detestable scene is playing out.

“I didn’t mur-“ Ichigo begins to defend herself only to be stopped by the harsh thump of the Soutaichou’s cane onto the wood floor in front of her. She doesn’t quite flinch but she does draw back a little, hair sliding against the floorboards.

“You have not been granted the right to speak yet, criminal,” he barks. She glares up at him balefully, neck craned to make eye contact, but doesn’t say anything further, just huffs before turning her head back down.

“That is indeed quite a list of crimes,” Kisuke says cheerfully, inwardly panicking. His first, worst, instinct is to snatch Ichigo and run. That’s the insane move, however. There’s no way that doesn’t end in death for at least one of them, or tossed into the Maggot’s Nest.

“Worthy of imprisonment at least,” Hirako drawls from his position in line. He looks bored, but his eyes track from Kisuke to Ichigo’s prostrate form. He’s always been a suspicious sort of bastard, too clever by half, but then neither Kisuke nor Ichigo have been subtle here. It’s obvious they know each other.

“Yes, if she were guilty,” Kisuke agrees. His words make Ichigo flinch, causes her to shrink a little smaller. It pains him to see, but he has to play this right. He’s already emotionally compromised but he has to keep his head about him.

“If? The evidence is clear,” Kuchiki says, voice as monotonous as ever. Kisuke has never cared much for the Kuchiki clan, all of them a bit too aware of their own dignity and filled with self-importance, but Byakuya might be the worst of them yet. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood he grew to be insufferable.

“Is it? Have you asked her where she got the Zanpakutou?” Kisuke asks, directing his question at Aizen and Yamamoto. He doesn’t dare look around the room, doesn’t even spare a glance at Yoruichi who knew somehow exactly who Ichigo was with enough time to summon him here.

“She refuses to say,” Aizen admits. “And there was no evidence where I found her, although she does insist that she has slain no Shinigami.”

“Well, of course not,” Kisuke says, forcefully lighthearted, thankful Ichigo has maintained her silence giving them a chance. “You see, I gave her the Asauchi.”

His lie provokes an immediate uproar, multiple captains demanding he explain himself, but Kisuke doesn’t turn his eyes away from Yamamoto, who’s face could be set in stone for all the emotion he shows at this admission. The old man bangs his staff on the ground again, eyes trained unwavering on Kisuke.

“Quiet!” he calls, waiting as everyone settles again. “You, girl, is this true? Did Urahara Kisuke give you this sword?”

Ichigo hesitates to answer, looking between Kisuke and Yamamoto, licking her lips in thought. Kisuke hurries to interrupt, not wanting her to contradict his claim.

“It’s okay, Ichigo-chan,” he starts only to be cut off by Yamamoto.

“Be silent!” he orders Kisuke. “Girl, talk.”

“Yes,” she says after an agonizingly long pause. Her voice is defiant. “He is the one who gave me the sword, the Asauchi.”

“So, there you have it, not stolen, no murdered Shinigami,” Kisuke exclaims, clapping his hands together. He can feel baleful looks all around him but keeps his attention on Yamamoto, the most dangerous beast in the room. The other captains don’t matter, it’s Yamamoto he has to convince. _They_ have to convince.

“In trying to defend your… friend, you have indicted yourself, Urahara Kisuke. And the fact remains the girl is guilty of unlawful possession of a Zanpakutou and assault on a Shinigami.” Yamamoto rumbles out, implacable. He raises a brow at Kisuke, almost daring him to get out of this.

Kisuke opens his mouth, unsure of what he’s going to say but needing to say something. Nothing comes out though as he thinks desperately for an excuse.

“Ah, that would be true,” Yoruichi intervenes, finally, stepping forward. Kisuke doesn’t know if he’s relieved or more worried. “If the girl wasn’t betrothed to Kisuke, and thus, she falls under the purview of the Shihoin clan, which is allowed to assign Asauchi to its members.”

That rocks the entire Assembly Hall again and leaves Kisuke struggling to keep a straight face. Ichigo has frozen in her spot on the floor, hair luckily hiding her face as it falls loose over her shoulders to drape the ground.

Whatever he thought Yoruichi was going to say it certainly hadn’t been that.

“Betrothed?” Hirako chokes out, laughing hard enough he’s bent over, all dignity lost. “Urahara?”

“Congratulations, Urahara-taichou,” Unohana says over the din, face serene but lips twitching.

“Unbelievable,” mutters Kuchiki, just loud enough to be heard.

“Wait, why does her betrothal to Urahara-taichou put her under the purview of the Shihoin?” Hitsugaya asks, baffled and angry about it. That causes others to pause before turning to Yoruichi, who smiles and raises her brows.

“Why, Kisuke-chan has been a Shihoin for hundreds of years. He was adopted by the clan soon after I became clan head. I suppose, only Yamamoto-Soutaichou would know about that though, since Kisuke-chan refused to take the Shihoin name.”

“As I told you at the time, Urahara is good enough for me,” Kisuke replies drily, thoughts and heart racing again. It’s a bold move, but potentially the only one to save the situation. The Five Great Noble Families long held the ability to give Asauchi to members of their clan, bypassing the academy entirely if they want, although most clan members still attended, for the prestige if nothing else.

Truthfully, he forgot that technically he is part of the Shihoin clan. It had been a very long time ago, when Yoruichi first took on the role of Clan Head after her father, the previous Clan Head, died. The clan elders disproved of Kisuke in general and his closeness with Yoruichi in particular, which hadn’t been anything new, but when they barred him from attending clan meetings due to not being part of the clan, Yoruichi had in a fit of pettiness and spite used her position as Clan Head to adopt Kisuke as a member of the Shihoin. For years, decades, she teased him about it, laughing about being responsible for Kisuke now, but gradually, as she became more secure and comfortable in her role as Clan Head she needed Kisuke’s support less and less, until he stopped attending any meetings, and the adoption was all but forgotten, at least by Kisuke.

He’s never used it, never brought it up to anyone who didn’t already know. He was adopted into the clan, but not into a specific role, had no title or rank, and thus had no real power or standing within the family. Didn’t think of any of them as family, except for Yoruichi. It’s the type of thing someone with a lot of time and dedication could look up in the records, but why would they think to?

“This is starting to feel like one of those dramatic romance books the Women’s Association is always reading,” Kyouraku whispers loudly to Histugaya, looking completely enthralled in the show happening in front of him. Kisuke thinks, if it came down to it, Kyouraku would be on his side at least. Maybe Hirako and Unohana too.

“I’ve seen you reading those same books, Kyouraku-taichou,” Hitsugaya hisses back, clearly annoyed.

“Enough!” demands Yamamoto, flaring his reiatsu to emphasize his ire, bringing the room to instant attention again. “Girl, are you betrothed to Urahara-taichou?”

There’s a moment of hesitancy before Ichigo lifts her head, eyes burning and jaw clenched. Kisuke holds his breath. If she denies it, it won’t just be her facing punishment, but Kisuke himself, for what would be an even greater crime than any of hers. For a captain to be handing out Asauchi to Rukongai inhabitants, Kisuke wouldn’t just lose his captaincy, he’d be spending the rest of his days in the very prison he once patrolled.

“Yeah, he said the sword was an engagement gift. Something to protect me, before the wedding,” she grits out, defiant and angry. Scared but trying not to show it. Kisuke would feel proud if he wasn’t filled with concern.

“And when is this wedding set to occur?” Yamamoto asks. Kisuke knows Yamamoto hasn’t been fooled, not really, but at this point the man’s options are limited. If he calls both Kisuke and Yoruichi liars, then he risks the ire of the Shihoin clan and the loss of at least one captain. Yamamoto doesn’t have much in the way of mercy, but he’s a crafty sort, willing to allow a situation to turn to his benefit as long as he thinks he can control the outcome. Kisuke is counting on it.

“Well, I wanted a big wedding. A whole grand affair. It’s been awhile since we’ve had such a good excuse for a party,” Yoruichi drawls, by all appearances sincere, before pouting. “But Kisuke-chan insists on a modest wedding. I’m still trying to convince him.”

It’s strange to have Yoruichi call him Kisuke-chan here, when she’s always taken care to refer to him in this hall as she would any other captain. It’s a deliberate tactic to distract, to invite others in on the joke. Kisuke-chan so in love he gave his sweetheart a sword, isn’t it so funny? Isn’t it entertaining? Isn’t it harmless?

“As I have told you before, neither Ichigo-chan nor I would enjoy such a thing,” Kisuke responds casually, eyes still trained on Yamamoto, slowly he bows. “I know that technically I should have waited until I brought Ichigo here to present her with an Asauchi but you must understand, I was worried for her out in Rukongai. I apologize for my lapse in judgement.”

Kisuke feels the burning gazes off not just Yamamoto but all the other captains in the room besides on the back of his neck and has to clench his fist to calm himself. Hates to play this kowtowing role but willing to do it to protect Ichigo.

“Aizen-fukutaichou,” Yamamoto says instead of addressing Kisuke or acknowledging his apology, “release her.”

Kisuke, looking up through his bangs, sees a muscle in Aizen’s jaw jump, before the main calmly releases the bakudou keeping Ichigo restrained. She gasps when freed, instantly pulling her arms around to her front before sitting up, back stiff and straight as her gaze confronts Yamamoto’s. Kisuke straightens too, takes a single step closer to her before he’s stopped by Yamamoto raising a hand.

The room falls silent as they stare at each other, Yamamoto impassive and Ichigo scowling boldly. Kisuke is unsurprised when, without twitching a single muscle, Yamamoto lets out a wave of reiatsu greater than what he used earlier to gain order. It’s not nearly all he’s capable of, but it’s still a heavy, burning thing, oppressive in its heat. Most Shinigami would find themselves swaying under the weight of it, if not completely prostrate, Ichigo merely scowls deeper, clearly feeling the pressure but unwilling to bow under it.

“Hmm,” Yamamoto eyes Ichigo with a bit more interest, unfortunately so do the others in the room. Kisuke would prefer no one be interested in Ichigo. “You’ve one last allegation to answer for. Why did you attack Aizen-fukutaichou?”

“He’s the one who came up behind me while I thought I was alone in the woods and grabbed me by the arm. For all I knew he was a pervert or something. Of course, I took a swing at him.” Ichigo huffs and turns her head away, facing towards the right, away from Aizen, given those standing there their first good look at her face.

While most of the room titters at Ichigo’s accusation, and Aizen keeps an impressive poker face, Kisuke notices that Shiba-fukutaichou, who has done little but observe passively in his role filling in for an undoubtedly bed-confined Ukitake, startles, doing something of a double take. An unusual expression Kisuke files away for thought later.

“You can hardly blame a girl for defending herself,” Yoruichi says through barely restrained laughter. “Perhaps Aizen-fukutaichou should learn better how to approach women?”

That causes Hirako and Kyouraku to laugh again, and even Unohana and Hitsugaya are struggling to keep smirks off their faces. Shiba finally pulls his eyes away from Ichigo to cough into his fist, trying not to laugh.

“Very well, it appears to have been a, misunderstanding,” Yamamoto rules. “Stand up, girl.”

Ichigo does, stumbling as blood rushes back to legs made numb from kneeling. Kisuke steps up to steady her by the elbow, an instinctual move that has the added benefit of being endearing to the crowd. He feels Ichigo jerk a little and clamps his hand down, not letting her pull away from him in an action that might give away their ruse.

“Her Zanpakutou, please,” Kisuke says to Aizen, holding out his free hand. Smoothly the main passes it to him with a small bow. Kisuke’s fist closes midway around the sheath and can almost feel the ire coming off the blade, unhappy as it must be to have been taken away from its wielder.

“Of course. I do apologize, Ichigo-san, for startling you before, and for this. I was unaware of your,” he pauses just long enough for it to be noticeable, “circumstances.”

“Yes, well, now you know, I guess,” Ichigo mutters as she takes her sword from Kisuke who smoothly pulls his hand away from her elbow. “Sorry, I tried to deck you.”

“Now that this bit of drama has been taken care of,” says the Soutaichou with a biting tone, “you’re all free to go.”

The others compose themselves long enough to bow as is customary, as the Soutaichou makes to leave through the back door. Before Yamamoto steps out of the room though he pauses and turns to throw a last imposing look at Kisuke.

“I expect I’ll be hearing news of your nuptials before the fortnight is out,” he says like an order. “And I expect your new wife will be enrolling with the new class of students over at the academy.”

“Of course, sir,” Kisuke says a little faintly, ignoring the look Ichigo sends him, one part fury and another part betrayal. The door behind him closes with a snap, leaving Kisuke with a quietly fuming Ichigo and several nosy captains.

* * *

Ichigo is shaking. She can feel the fine tremors in her legs and her arms. She hopes they aren’t noticeable under her clothes but thinks they must be considering how Ki… Urahara… Urahara- _taichou_ hovers at her side. Others in the room, other _captains,_ swarm them, big smiles on their faces. A couple leave through the front door, uninterested, including, fortunately, the bastard who brought her here.

She’d been alone in the forest of Aomatsu looking around for late season tubers when someone had grabbed her arm from behind, startling her into twisting around, a punch aimed at the intruder’s face in an instinctual defense. It wasn’t Kis… _Urahara_ , that much Ichigo knew immediately, because he never attempted to grab her like that, had always made sure she knew he was there before getting that close. And indeed, the person who had her by the arm and caught her fist was not her Shinigami-san, but another, strange Shinigami.

He was tall, broad, and handsome and smiling at her with nothing behind his eyes. He gazed down at her, implacable strength easily holding Ichigo’s arms even as she twisted and pulled to get free, like she was fascinating to him. But unlike when caught under Kisuke’s eyes Ichigo doesn’t feel a thrill, instead just a sinking dread. It’s hard to pinpoint the difference, but Ichigo thinks it might be that when Ki… _Urahara, damn it_ , looks at her he still thinks of her as a person. She’s not so sure this Shinigami does.

What follows next Ichigo prefers not to think about, because it’s embarrassing how quickly and easily the man managed to subdue her. It’s enough to say that she was captured easily and dragged all the way to Seireitei thrown over the man’s shoulder. He’d asked her all sorts of questions, about herself, about her sword, about the bracelet, about who was helping her. She’d answered none of them. And then she’d been dumped at the feet of that old man and things proceeded to devolve from there.

And now she’s, free? Engaged to Urahara? Ichigo doesn’t even know. Her heart races in her chest still, beating that quick staccato rhythm it started up the moment she’d heard the old man say Urahara’s name. She’s slowly being herded to the exit though by Urahara and the dark skinned woman who’d spoken up for him. She goes along with it because she’s not sure how she feels being surrounded by so many people so much stronger than herself, and she wants, desperately, to be out of this room.

A blond is slapping Urahara on the shoulder hard enough to knock him into Ichigo’s side while a man in pink haori is loudly proclaiming that they all need to go out and celebrate the engagement. Another man with dark hair but a jovial face, missing the white haori the others are wearing, steps forward to pass a gentle congratulations to Ichigo, eyes skimming over her face uncomfortably. Finally a woman with long black hair braided in front of her steps to her side, causing Urahara’s friend?, to step back.

“Are you feeling alright?” the woman asks, a hand poised over Ichigo’s forehead. “I’m sure this has been quite an ordeal for you.” Her soft voice causes everyone to take a step back and quiet down. They’re scared of her, Ichigo realizes.

The woman’s hands pass over Ichigo’s shoulders, not touching, just hovering, glowing faintly. The tension in her shoulders immediately lessens and the pain from having her arms restrained for so long recedes.

“I’m fine,” Ichigo tells her, feeling anything but, even if she’s no longer in physical pain. She just wants to leave. She wants to go home to Aomatsu. Karin and Yuzu must be frantic by now with worry for her.

“Please,” Urahara says, “Thank you all for your well wishes, but I think it best I take Ichigo-chan home, to rest.”

“I want to go-“ Ichigo starts to hiss at Urahara only to be interrupted by the dark skinned woman, Shihoin?

“Kisuke you live at your division, that’s no place for Ichigo-chan. You’ll come to the Shihoin compound,” She declares, sweeping them both out of the hall they’d been in before into the bright sunlight. It’s still morning somehow, not quite noon.

“Ah, of course, thank you, Yoruichi-san,” Urahara says, wrapping a steel arm around Ichigo’s waist, practically forcing her to walk. She wants to pull away from him but doesn’t know if she should.

Ichigo feels angry, afraid, confused. She wants answers. She wants retribution. She wants her sisters. She wants the last day not to have happened at all.

She waits until they’re far enough away that the others shouldn’t be able to hear before she whispers at Urahara, voice tight, “Did you tell him about me?”

“No,” Urahara whispers back, wide eyed in urgency, willing her to believe him. “Never.”

“Not here, lovebirds,” Shihoin stops them, speaking out of the side of her mouth as she yanks them down a side road. “For Soul King’s sake, shut the fuck up until we get to the compound.”

They walk, Shihoin leading the way, Urahara by her side. It’s odd because in Ichigo’s experience Urahara rarely walks anywhere, but maybe there are rules about using Shunpo here. Ichigo knows very little about Seireitei after all, only what rumors and Urahara have told her. 

It’s somehow even more clean then she expected, walls all whitewashed, cobblestones looking like they’ve been recently scrubbed down. People fill the streets, equally clean. A lot of them are wearing the black uniform of a Shinigami but there are others dressed in more casual clothes, or even a few in nicer things. Occasionally one nods to Shihoin or Urahara, mostly Shihoin. A few look at her curiously, but quickly move on. The pass shops and restaurants and houses, a large compound with a sign denoting it as the Second Division. Eventually, not far after the Division, they reach another compound, nicer and more elegant. The guards at the gate bow deeply when Shihoin steps up but she ignores them.

They pass a wide courtyard filled with graceful landscaping blooming even in the cold of winter, before entering the largest of the buildings. It’s by far the nicest place Ichigo’s ever been inside but she can’t enjoy it, too caught up in her thoughts. She slips her sandals off easily at the door but has to wait while Shihoin and Urahara untie their own.

“Are you hungry?” Shihoin asks her, standing up. She’s shorter than Ichigo but with such definition to her arms that Ichigo is sure the woman could throw her into next week. Ichigo looks down at her and doesn’t know how to answer. She is hungry, she hasn’t eaten since the previous afternoon, but she wants answers more than food.

“I want to know what’s going on,” Ichigo says, stepping up into the house.

“Fine, fine. I’ll have a servant bring something while we talk. Come on you two,” she leads them into a room with a low table and cushions, flinging herself down onto one. “Well, this is quite a situation, isn’t it Kisuke-chan.”

“I could not have foreseen Aizen discovering her. What was he even doing out there? That area is under the Twelfth’s jurisdiction.” He looks angry, the first time Ichigo has even seen him such. Eyes narrowed he sits heavily across from Yoruichi, pulling out his sheathed sword in the same movement to set beside him, leaving only the spaces between them at the small square table.

“He must have been passing through,” Shihoin shrugs as the door slides back open, a kneeling servant there. “Bring us some food, and drinks, will you?”

“Yes, Yoruichi-sama,” the servant says bowing before closing the door again. Ichigo tries not to stare after her, having never seen servants before.

“Passing through or not, he should have come to me first,” Urahara grumbles, fist curling where it rests on the table. “Aomatsu is patrolled by the Twelfth, for all he knew she was working under me.”

“Now you care about protocol?” laughs Shihoin. She turns her head to look at Ichigo, who’s lowered herself to sit stiffly on one of the other cushions, legs tucked under her. “Ah, I’m being rude. I’m Shihoin Yoruichi, head of the Shihoin clan, captain of the Second Division, leader of the Onmitsukido, blah blah blah. You can just call me Yoruichi. I’m Kisuke-chan’s best friend after all, so I’m sure we’re going to become great friends too.” She winks at Ichigo.

“… I’m Ichigo.”

“Ichigo?” Yoruichi trails off, leadingly.

“Just Ichigo,” she shrugs. She doesn’t remember her last name and hasn’t bothered picking a new one like most people do in Rukongai.

“Well, soon enough you’ll be Urahara Ichigo,” Yoruichi declares jovially.

“Yoruichi-san!” Urahara hisses at his friend, eyes darting to Ichigo as she frowns.

“I’m not getting married,” Ichigo argues.

“Oh yes, you are.” Yoruichi says seriously. “You don’t have a choice at this point. Frankly, we’re lucky the pair of you didn’t end up thrown into the Nest.”

“The Nest?”

“The Maggot’s Nest. It’s where criminals and those judged dangerous to Seireitei are kept imprisoned. It’s, unpleasant.” Urahara tells her.

“Yeah and you were both about to earn yourselves a one-way ticket there. Really Kisuke, what were you thinking?”

“Is there any point in answering that? What’s done is done.”

“Fine. What’s done is done, and now the two of you will be getting married, congratulations.”

“I already told you, I’m not getting married,” Ichigo protests, thumping a closed fist down on the table before whirling around to look at Urahara. “This is your fault. I bet you planned this.” She reaches out a hand, unsure if she’s going to grab Urahara and shake him or what, before she can though it’s grabbed by the man.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m truly sorry. I thought you’d be safe, at least for a little while longer. I promise you I didn’t tell anyone where you were. I never meant for things to turn out this way. But, at this point, I don’t know how to get out of it.”

His hand is warm on hers, engulfs it nearly entirely. It’s comforting, but Ichigo wishes it weren’t.

“You’re a _captain,”_ she says. Doesn’t say ‘I trusted you.’ Of all the stories citizens of Rukongai tell themselves about Shinigami the ones about captains are always the most fanciful, the most terrifying, the only ones whispered like they might be overheard and punished for their presumption. Captains can move faster than the eye can see, can knock people out without moving, can destroy entire villages with a single swing of their sword.

Ichigo isn’t afraid, the stories have never spooked her like they did most people in the village, and she’s always thought that even captains must still just be people. It still hurts though, to realize that while she thought the pair of them were growing closer, Urahara was hiding such things.

“Yes?” Urahara looks confused, and Ichigo sees no disingenuity in his face. He genuinely doesn’t seem to get why that fact upsets her.

“She’s mad you didn’t tell her,” Yoruichi speaks up as the door slides open again, a pair of servants carrying trays entering the room. “He doesn’t always get these sort of things.”

“Yes, you should have told me,” Ichigo agrees, nodding as she leans back to make room for the plates and cups being slid onto the table. It has the added benefit of forcing Urahara to let go of her.

“I see…” he says even though it’s clear he does not. Ichigo feels the distinct urge to smash his face into one of the plates of food being set out. “I’m, sorry?”

“You’re awful at this, aren’t you?” Ichigo says, sighing as she pulls a dish of finger foods to herself. She is hungry, and now that the adrenaline is leaving she wants nothing more than to eat.

“Yes,” says Yoruichi, helping herself to a bun filled with bean paste. Everything about her reads as insouciance, from the way she sits sprawled out lazily to the way she eats. Ichigo admittedly doesn’t know much about nobles, but she wouldn’t pick Yoruichi out as one.

“No,” says Urahara. At the looks sent by both Ichigo and Yoruichi he huffs, changing his answer. “Alright, maybe. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just, didn’t really think of it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ichigo says, taking a bite of something filled with what turns out to be fruit. “Next time, I don’t know, just tell me these things.”

“They do say communication is the basis for a healthy marriage,” comments Yoruichi with her mouth full.

“I’m not getting married,” Ichigo bites out, stuffing the rest of her mochi into her mouth, feeling her cheeks warm.

“Sure, you tell the Soutaichou that,” she rolls her eyes, “you can tell me how it went when I visit you in the Nest.”

“I’m sorry, Ichigo-chan,” Urahara says to her softly. “But I really can’t think of a way out of it. I promise though, I’ll take care of you, and your sisters.”

Ichigo scowls. She doesn’t want to be taken care of. She doesn’t want to be married. She just wants to go home.

“My sisters… I need to go home. I need to see them. They must be so scared.” Ichigo starts to stand only to be tugged back to the floor by Yoruichi pulling on her skirt. “Oof. Stop that!”

“You’re not going anywhere. Are you kidding? You’re being watched,” the woman tells her, golden eyes pinning Ichigo to her spot on the floor. “None of that little song or dance fooled the Soutaichou for a minute, but he’s willing to go along with it so we all save face. But that means we have no choice but go through with it, and until we do you can bet he’s keeping an eye on you.”

Silence settles over the trio, broken only by the sound of Yoruichi chewing.

“I’ll go. They know me. I’ll go and I’ll bring them back here,” Urahara eventually says, jumping up and heading for the door before pausing, turning around, and coming to kneel in front of Ichigo, eyes locked with her own. “It will be fine. Everything will be fine, I promise, so just, wait for me here. Yoruichi will take care of you until I get back.”

“Oh, I will, will I?” mutters Yoruichi in the background, but neither of them pay her any attention.

“Just, just bring my sisters back,” tells him, sighing. Her anger is quickly dissipating. She wishes she could hold onto it but she can’t. She’s still a little scared for her sisters, and she’s unsure what the future holds, but the anger has fled.

She’s spent months getting to know Kisuke. He’s taught her things, talked with her sisters, laughed with her. Brought gifts and thought he was clever whenever he hid money in her house. Encouraged her to become stronger and told her she was extraordinary. She likes Kisuke, even when she doesn’t always know how to trust him. But marrying him? That’s a little too much. And yet, it seems, both of them are stuck.

“I will, I promise,” he hesitates visibly, which seems wrong, before slowly ducking his head towards hers. Gives her a chance to pull away and when she doesn’t gently sets his lips to her cheek. “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. We’ll figure all this out.”

Ichigo makes an agreeable noise in her throat as Kisuke stands up and leaves. Picks up a bun and forces herself to eat it, even though her stomach feels like lead. A few minutes pass in silence as Ichigo eats and collects herself.

“At least you and I can get to know each other while we wait for Kisuke-chan to get back. But first, I bet you want to clean up,” Yoruichi says after she’s done nothing but tear up a bun onto her plate, unable to stomach anything more.

“Yeah, sure,” Ichigo agrees and allows Yoruichi to lead her further into the grand house, telling herself she doesn’t wish Kisuke was still next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To explain a few things: This story is set in the modern time period of Bleach but in an AU where the hollowfication event never occurred. As such some captains are the same as 100 years ago, some are different. 
> 
> I hope everyone likes this chapter. This has been planned since I started the fic. It's kinda like a marriage of convenience except no one finds it convenient. The secret referenced in the title was always meant to reference this marriage lie lmao.
> 
> I'm so glad I was able to get this updated 1 more time before the new year. I hope everyone has as good a new year as they possible can, safely.
> 
> As usual, comments are love and help to keep me writing, because my adhd brain loves that instant dopamine hit from reading them.


	9. Yellow Rose - Friendship, apology, intense emotion

Rumors in Rukongai say that everyone in Seireitei is rich and Ichigo isn’t entirely sure that’s true, but the Shihoin are certainly very well off. Ichigo’s never seen such a nice house, not since dying anyway. If she’s been to any this nice while alive she doesn’t remember it now.

It’s not just the size, which is excessive given the amount of seemingly empty rooms, but the furniture and fixtures. All of the cushions are embroidered silk, there are antiques in every room, and Ichigo is pretty sure that the handles on the door are, if not pure gold, gold plated. Who needs gold door handles?

The bathroom alone is larger than the apartment she shared with her sisters, paneled in cedar wood with tile floors kept warm by underground heating. The bath nearly makes Ichigo cry, she can actually stretch out and she doesn’t have to spend ages heating water on the stove.

Or maybe she’s crying because today has just, been a lot.

She scrubs until she’s pink and washes her hair with something in a glass bottle that smells like oranges and sage. Her hair has never been this soft and she feels almost like a new person by the time she shrugs on the yukata Yoruichi tossed into the room earlier, without so much as knocking.

Ichigo threw a wet washcloth in retaliation but only managed to send it sailing out the door into the hallway where it had landed with a squelch. Ichigo felt a little bad about that, because she just knew Yoruichi, who danced away while laughing maniacally, wasn’t going to clean it, which meant one of the servants would have to.

Servants. Plural. Ichigo’s seen at least five different ones already and all she’s done is have snacks, take a bath, and then get served a meal in a small room with a rectangular, low table. Throughout the meal Yoruichi pesters her, asking question after question about Ichigo’s life until that moment. About her home, her sisters, her work hunting hollows for the bounties.

Sometimes it feels as though Yoruichi already knows the answers to the questions she asks, and asks them only to see what Ichigo is going to say. When Ichigo tries to call her out however Yoruichi just grins at her, all teeth, and changes the subject.

Unfortunately, she changes it to wedding planning, absolutely the last thing Ichigo wants to talk about.

“Do you have to keep bringing this up?” Ichigo asks, somewhat desperately. She shoves vegetables and chicken around on her plate, appetite waning. The food tastes good, technically better prepared than what Yuzu manages in their little apartment, but lacks something. Maybe it’s the setting. The Shihoin home is grand, but Ichigo’s apartment is warm in a way that has nothing to do with furnaces.

“You have to get used to the idea. Sooner rather than later. We only have a couple weeks after all,” Yoruichi says, pointing at Ichigo with her chopsticks even thought it’s rude.

“We,” Ichigo mutters sarcastically under her breath. Like Yoruichi is part of this. She’s not the one being forced to get married to a man she barely knows. She is in fact the reason for this farce. If she’d only butted out then, well, probably both Ichigo and Kisuke would have been arrested.

That thought takes a bit of the wind out of the sails of Ichigo’s anger. She certainly doesn’t want to be arrested, and she would have felt awful if Kisuke had been while trying to protect her.

But marriage?

“There was nothing else you could have said to get us out of there?” Ichigo asks, voice strained. She wants to shake Yoruichi, demand answers. That would be rude though, and unwise. The woman is definitely stronger than Ichigo, and Ichigo is currently staying in her house.

“Not that I could think of at the time. It’s not like I had much warning,” Yoruichi shrugs, uncaring, pulling another bowl of rice to herself with one hand while pouring herself another drink with the other. She lifts the bottle in Ichigo’s direction, “Sure you don’t want any?”

“No, thanks.” Alcohol is the last thing Ichigo needs to add to this situation. Also, she’s never had it before and doesn’t want to learn how she reacts to it now.

“Suit yourself.” Yoruichi downs the rest of the bottle before shoveling rice into her mouth. Her manners are amazing. She isn’t messy or gross or anything, but Ichigo has seen starving people in Rukongai eat slower and with less gusto. She’s consumed three bowls of rice now before Ichigo can even finish her first.

“Now that you’ve been given time, do you think you can come up with some way to get me and Urahara out of this? He’s your friend, right? You don’t want him to be forced to get married, right?” Thus far Yoruichi’s shown zero sympathy for Ichigo’s plight but perhaps if she plays on her friendship with Kisuke, Ichigo will get somewhere.

“Nope,” chirps Yoruichi. “Now that you’re committed and with the Soutaichou watching, I’m not sure how you could possible wriggle out of it. It’s fine though. I think this will be good for Kisuke.”

“Good for Kisuke?” Ichigo nearly shrieks, voice strangled. She’s astonished by the uncaring attitude of Yoruichi. “How is marrying a near stranger good for anyone!”

“You guys have known each other for months, that’s more than some marriages have,” points out Yoruichi, unperturbed by Ichigo’s outburst.

Maybe marriages in Seireitei, among nobles or whatever, but in the Rukongai people date for years, sometimes decades before marrying, if they bother marrying at all. When you’re functionally immortal you have all the time in the world to get to know somebody. In comparison a little less than 3 months is practically the blink of the eye. Ichigo might be practically a child next to the decades and centuries some have lingered in Rukongai and thus still judges time on a smaller scale, but even she finds 3 months too short.

“Sure, yeah, never mind that it’s still barely any time at all. How is this good for Urahara?” She’s starting to learn that you can’t let Yoruichi distract you. You have to force her to answer sometimes. Conversation wrangling with Yoruichi feels rather like herding cats.

“I think you will be good for Kisuke,” Yoruichi says, shrugging. “He likes you, he’s been happier and more engaged than he’s been in years since he started sneaking off to see you. And he’s always needed more human interaction. Spends far too long locked up in his lab with only Kurotsuchi for company, and no one would consider that guy human.”

Ichigo sets her chopsticks down to scrub at her face, feeling her cheeks heat and wanting to hide it. Unexpected, but not unwelcome precisely, Yoruichi’s answer leaves Ichigo feeling flustered, like she’s just run a long distance and she can’t calm her heartbeat. It’s a lot to put on someone. This expectation now that she’ll continue making Kisuke happy into the future.

And that’s part of the problem isn’t it? Marriage comes with _expectations_. The obvious ones like loyalty and partnership and, yes, _relations._ But all of those, even the physical aspects, are easier to handle than the idea that someone might be counting on her for their own happiness. Ichigo doesn’t know how to make someone else happy. Ichigo doesn’t even know how to make herself happy.

“You realize this is a lot to put on me?” Ichigo groans into her hands, voice muffled.

“Oh, I’m sure you can handle it. They make them tough in Rukongai. Besides, it’s not as if there are no benefits for you.”

“Benefits?” Ichigo sputters, dropping her hands to stare at Yoruichi. Surely, she doesn’t mean…

Yourichi raises a brow, face sly as a fox. Puts her elbow on the table and leans into Ichigo’s space.

“Oh, what could you be thinking of?” she asks, voice conspiratorial.

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing! What the hell are you talking about?” Ichigo blushes worse as Yoruichi breaks into laughter at her expense, _again_. She leans back though, which is a relief.

“I just meant you’ll have more security and comforts living here in Seireitei. Your sisters as well, why there’s even schools here for them. And with a captain for a husband, well, that opens a lot of doors.”

It’s a good point. Ichigo doesn’t know what they pay captains around here, but it’s probably a lot more than she and her sisters were scrapping together out in Aomatsu. Aomatsu also lacks anything close to luxuries or opportunities. The idea that her sister could go to school is, incredibly tempting. They’d be safer here too. Healthier probably. Although, there’s one incentive Ichigo doesn’t need.

“I’m not looking to use Kisuke’s name for anything. If I want a door open, I can open it myself.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could get to wherever you want to be all on your own if what Kisuke says about your potential is true, but it never hurts to have a little grease on the hinges.” Yoruichi reaches over the corner of the table to pat Ichigo on the head. “It’s nice to hear you’re not trying to use Kisuke like that though. And it’s nice to hear you calling him by name.”

Ichigo shoves off the woman’s hand with a scowl. “Stop that,” she snaps. Yoruichi laughs at her again. “I’ll call him whatever I want.”

Ichigo doesn’t say that Kisuke’s pestering of her to use his given name wore her down. Doesn’t say that she’s been calling him that in her mind for weeks. Doesn’t say that it was hard, even when she was angry, to try to think of him as Urahara again.

“Finish your food and I’ll show you to your room. We can talk more about the wedding after you’ve gotten some rest.”

With a sigh Ichigo complies. She’s not that hungry but she knows she needs to eat. The guy who grabbed her didn’t bother feeding her and the snacks from earlier certainly don’t make up for lost meals, not when Ichigo is always starving.

When she’s done Yoruichi tells her to leave the stuff on the table and pulls her from the room. Leads her down a series of hallways until Ichigo is quite sure she’d never be able to find her way back. The hallways all look the same and the amount of twists and turns seems excessive for any house.

Looking around as Yoruichi finally throws open the door of a room she proceeds to shove Ichigo into Ichigo thinks again that this house really is very nice.

And yet the floorboards creak something awful

* * *

Rukia honestly has no idea what she’s doing here. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s standing outside the Shihoin estate with a box of castella cake in one hand and a poorly wrapped gift in the other. Inside her head (never aloud because that would be unbefitting of a Kuchiki), Rukia curses Kaien for putting her in this position.

It is not the first time she’s ever been here of course. There have been, in the fifty odd years since her adoption into the Kuchiki family, a handful of parties and gatherings hosted by the Shihoin that Rukia has attended in her capacity as a daughter of the family. However, Rukia’s never come here alone, during the day. When she should be working.

Except Kaien had pulled her aside that morning, thrusting what Rukia was positive was a vase he snatched from some nook in his own estate into her hands and told her that she’d be visiting the Shihoin to welcome ‘Ichigo-san’ to Seireitei and congratulate her on her engagement.

Oh and if Rukia could just please ask a few questions about Ichigo’s background, that would be great too.

“You’ll like her,” Kaien told her, smiling down at her in that manner she always finds comforting. “You two have a lot in common you know. Both of you coming from Rukongai and being thrust into what passes for high society around here.”

“So it’s true?” Rukia asked. “Urahara-taichou is marrying a girl from Rukongai?”

The rumor mill in Seireitei is nothing short of a well oiled machine and there hasn’t been gossip this juicy since that time the third division’s sixth seat was caught cheating on his wife with the eleventh division’s eighth seat. Already the details of the engagement, real or not, are floating around Seireitei, originating in several different divisions, including her own. Really, Kaien should have known better than to tell Kiyone and Sentaro anything.

The fact that a million rumors about the Twelfth Division captain already exists didn’t hurt.

Rukia’s heard things about him that range from the practically confirmed (he used to be an assassin), to the hopefully not true (he dissects Shinigami in his labs), to the patently ridiculous (he mastered bankai in just three days). Nothing she’s heard has endeared her to the man, but she’s never actually interacted with him. Doesn’t think she could pick him out on the street if he weren’t wearing his captain’s haori.

The things being said about the girl are, generally nicer, but no less overblown. To some she’s a temptress from the Rukongai looking for the richest husband she could catch. To others she’s a poor dear caught in the machinations of the notorious Twelfth Division captain. Yet more claim she’s actually incredibly powerful and that’s why Urahara looked at her twice. Some even claim she’s a criminal, forced to marry the captain or be executed for crimes against Seireitei.

“Can’t you tell me anything more about her?” Rukia had asked, somewhat desperately. She doesn’t want to go meet some stranger! This is definitely outside of her job description.

“Not really. Nobody knows anything about her, which is why you’re going to ask her about herself,” Kaien had said, shoving her out the gates of their division. “She was pretty stressed last I saw her, but you know, she’s got one hell of a backbone. Anyway, you’ll be fine. Just make friends with her, easy.”

Easy Kaien had said. Like Rukia has any sort of idea how to make friends. Her only real claim to friendship is Renji, who she mostly befriended because fate had thrown them together in terrible circumstances. Every friend after that was Renji’s friend first.

And now, Rukia doesn’t have friends, because friends are beneath a Kuchiki. Or something. Sure, she gets along okay with the people in her division, but even here people talk about her. Whispering behind their hands like Rukia won’t hear. Rumors about her adoption, about the Kuchiki pulling her from school early, about her brother manipulating things for her to be placed in this division. People can’t decide if she doesn’t even deserve the position she has or if she deserves more.

Rukia sighs again before ringing the bell at the Shihoin estate gate. Even if she’s not very good at making friends she knows how to be polite and make small talk. One of the many lessons in being a Kuchiki.

The servant who answers the gate is polite, not showing a trace of confusion as she leads Rukia into the house and to a small sitting room, surprisingly appointed with large stuffed furniture on wooden floors rather than in the traditional style, telling Rukia to make herself comfortable while she sees if Ichigo-san is available.

Feeling awkward Rukia sets the cake and the poorly wrapped vase onto a table in the room and then shuffles her feet. Should she sit on the couch? Should she take the chair? Should she just stand and wait for Ichigo-san to arrive?

Before Rukia can decide, she hears footsteps outside the door. Patting useless at her hair, attempting to neaten it out of nervousness, Rukia turns right as the door open.

Rukia’s first impression is _tall._ Rukia isn’t a great judge of height to be sure, seeing as she stopped growing around the time she entered the academy and has met children taller than her, but the woman before her is certainly taller than average, probably around Matsumoto-fukutaichou’s height. Her next impression is _bright_. Bright orange hair, far more vivid than any she’s seen in Seireitei before.

Then, after this, Rukia finally looks at the woman’s face.

‘Oh,’ she thinks to herself, surprised. ‘This is why Kaien wanted me to ask about her background.’

Ichigo-san looks remarkably like Kuukaku. Not in coloring, but in the bone structure. The same sharp jawline, the same noble nose bridge, the same angle to the eyes. Ichigo-san is younger, certainly, but the resemblance is clear.

Hastily Rukia pulls her eyes away from Ichigo’s face and bows.

“Hello, I’m Kuchiki Rukia, of the Kuchiki clan and member of the Thirteenth Division,” she says straightening.

“Ah,” says Ichigo as she returns the bow. “I’m Ichigo.”

Rukia waits, shifting as Ichigo doesn’t continue, the pair of them left staring at each other.

“Oh, um, I’m here to welcome you to Seireitei, and offer the congratulations of the Thirteenth Division on your engagement.” Picking up the gift, in its lumpy wrapping, she shoves it into the hands of Ichigo, forcing her to juggle it until she can get a good hold on it.

“Um, thanks?” Ichigo stares perplexed at the item in her hands before gesturing with her head towards the couch. “You wanna sit down? I can probably grab a servant and get refreshments, or whatever.”

With a nod of thanks Rukia settles herself on the edge of the couch, sitting primly, sword held on her lap. She’s left with the thought that she should really put it down somewhere, the table maybe or against the wall, but then she’d had to get back up. She’s so distracted thinking about this that she misses Ichigo speaking again.

“What?” Rukia asks, then bites her lip because that was rude and graceless.

“This is cake right,” Ichigo points to the cake box on the table. “For me? I can have someone grab some plates.”

“Yes! That is for you! It’s Castella. Have you had Castella? It’s really quite good.” Rukia leans forward to pull open the box, letting the scent of baked goods waft in the air. She’d picked it up from her favorite bakery on the way here, not wanting to just show up with a weird, and admittedly ugly, vase.

“Yeah, it sounds familiar,” Ichigo says. She sets the still wrapped gift on the chair and steps to the door. “Just gimme a second, I gotta go find someone.”

Rukia breathes a sigh of relief as soon as Ichigo steps out, rubbing the knuckles of her hand against her forehead. She’s being weird. This is just a girl from the Rukongai. Rukia knows how to talk to people from Rukongai. She’s gotten nervous though because now she’s wondering if Ichigo is some long lost Shiba and is feeling the pressure to figure it out for Kaien’s sake.

It only takes a few minutes for Ichigo to return, by which point Rukia has leaned her sword against the wall and done a few stretches to try to relax. She enters carrying a tray with a tea set and a small stack of plates. With little grace the tray is set down on the coffee table, ceramics and silverware rattling.

“Luckily they have forks here,” Ichigo is saying. “You eat cakes with forks, right?

“Um, yes.”

The next couple minutes pass with the pouring of tea and slicing of cake.

“So, why are you here?” Ichigo asks cutting off a large bite of cake with her fork and shoving it into her mouth. She raises her eyebrows at Rukia.

“Like I said, I’m here to welcome you-“

“No, I mean, why you? Did your captain or whatever send you? Was he there yesterday?”

“My captain wasn’t there, but my lieutenant was. You might have seen him? Tall with short dark hair, he would have had an armband on.” Rukia wraps her hand around her left bicep. Ichigo’s face remains blank with incomprehension, clearly not recalling Kaien at all. “He thought someone should come and welcome you and he knows that I… I’m from Rukongai too.”

“Which district?” Ichigo looks at her curiously, gulping tea from her cup afterwards.

“South 78th. Inuzuri,” Rukia mumbles, sipping from her own cup, eyes sliding away towards a window on the far wall.

“Ah, that’s a rough district,” says Ichigo without judgement. Rukia feels her shoulders droop as tension from between her shoulder blades unspools. So often she’s been met with everything from derision to pity when people learn where she comes form. Even others from Rukongai tend to look at her differently when they learn of it. Most Shinigami that come to Seireitei from the districts come from the lower half, because those from the outer districts rarely survive having noticeable reiatsu.

“Yes. I was fortunate enough to be adopted by the Kuchiki clan while attending the academy however.” Rukia takes another sip of her tea, delicately. She doesn’t regret saying yes to the Kuchiki family when they’d asked her to join their family, not exactly. She doesn’t understand it very well. Rukia possess no great talent to make her worthy of adoption, isn’t in any way a benefit to the clan. However, she doesn’t regret agreeing, even if it is lonelier than expected.

“I don’t know what that is, sorry,” Ichigo shrugs, uncaring when Rukia sputters.

“They are one of the Five Great Noble Houses of Soul Society,” Rukia tells her. She shouldn’t be so shocked, Rukia tells herself. She only first learned of the families when herself and Renji started making their way through the inner districts to apply at the academy, and even then it was just a few stories and rumors.

“Oh, right, like the Shihoin,” Ichigo taps a fist to her hand briefly before picking up her cake plate again. “Sorry, I don’t know much about them. They aren’t really talked about out in East 42nd, and Kisuke never mentioned them.”

For a second Rukia has no idea who Ichigo is talking about. Then, nearly choking on her own bite of cake, she realizes that Ichigo must be talking about Urahara-taichou. It’s, shocking, somehow, to hear a man painted so vividly in rumors referred to so casually. If anyone has the right however it would be his fiancée.

“Ah, so, you’re from East 42nd?” Rukia asks, trying to cover her brief moment of inelegance. Finally, she can begin steering the conversation towards what Kaien wanted her to discover.

“Yeah. I live there with my little sisters.” Ichigo frowns, a strange expression to see on a face so similar to Kuukaku’s. Rukia’s met Kuukaku only a few times now, but each time the woman was constantly smiling. Something of a trait among Shiba. “I guess I should say, we lived there.”

“Sisters?” Rukia asks, trying to lighten the quickly darkening mood.

“Yeah. I have two of them, Yuzu and Karin. Kisuke went to get them.”

“Oh, I see. What about your parents?”

“Mom died. I’m not really sure about dad. Just been us three for a while.”

“I see. Do you know their names?” Rukia asks, leaning forward. She tries not to look too interested in the answer, but she can’t help but feel that if she can bring this information back to Kaien then she will have done a good job. Although her feelings have waned with time, she still wants Kaien to be proud of her.

“Mom’s name was Masaki. I think my dad’s name was Isshin? I don’t really remember, sorry,” Ichigo shrugs, fork scrapping across her plate.

Rukia tries not to fall off her seat. It wouldn’t be very becoming of a Kuchiki and it would absolutely look suspicious to Ichigo, but her heart is thundering near her throat. She knows the name Isshin. Even met him a time or two. He vanished over twenty years ago during a routine mission to the Transient World. The Shiba held a funeral for him when he didn’t return, assuming him dead.

“Are you ok? You went real pale there,” Ichigo asks, leaning forward until she’s right in Rukia’s face. Rukia can’t help but flail, shoving a hand into the redhead’s face to get some distance.

“Do you mind?” Rukia snaps before she can help it. Ichigo laughs, leaning back, unoffended.

“Sorry! I just thought you were gonna faint there for a minute. You okay?” Ichigo’s eyes warm with concern even if her expression stays as foreboding as usual. Ichigo is, to Rukia, definitely a little odd. Kind, but direct, clearly uninformed, but not unintelligent. Rukia doesn’t know quite what to make of her, but she thinks that Kaien will like her, and Nii-san will definitely not.

“I’m fine. So, uh,” Rukia casts around for something else to say, some other bit of conversation to distract from her strange reaction to name of Ichigo’s father. “How did you meet Urahara-taichou?” is what she eventually settles on. Rukia remembers people at the academy chattering on about partners and paramours and this was almost always one of the first questions.

“He saved me from some hollows,” Ichigo says, face suddenly more guarded. She holds the tea cup in front of her face like a barrier. Rukia can’t help but think there’s something more to the story.

“Oh? That’s really very gallant.” It’s not at all the sort of thing Rukia expected, given the rumors swirling around Urahara-taichou. Although, by the same logic, she’s not quite sure what she did expect.

“Yeah, and then he followed me home and wouldn’t leave me alone,” Ichigo continues blandly. That’s, maybe a little more expected.

“Ah,” Rukia says, faintly, unsure how to continue.

“He started coming ‘round a lot. Giving me and my sisters presents. Sometimes he’d leave money before he’d go,” says Ichigo. Rukia doesn’t know what to say to that. Tries not to think about the implications She casts her mind to all the rumors she heard earlier, searching for something to keep the conversation going.

“I heard, I mean people were talking, they say he gave you an Asauchi?” It was said scandalously in the barracks that morning, people whispering among themselves at how shocking it was.

“Oh, yeah, apparently it’s an engagement gift.” There’s a wry look on Ichigo’s face as she says this. Like it’s not quite the truth. “Now I gotta go to that academy of yours to learn how to use it I guess.” She doesn’t sound excited by the opportunity.

“The academy isn’t so bad. I really enjoyed my time there. I wish,” Rukia stops herself before she can say too much, but she’s already caught Ichigo’s attention. The woman is certainly sharp, thinks Rukia. Hones in on every slip.

“What? You wish what?” she asks, head tilted to the side in interest. It’s a gesture Rukia’s seen Kaien make a thousand times before.

“The Kuchikis felt I had achieved all I was going to at the academy, so they pulled me out early. As one of the 5 Great Noble Houses they’re allowed such leeway.”

“You know, when you talk about them, you get all formal and stuff. Your language changes.”

“Does it? I hadn’t noticed.” It’s a lie. She has. She hadn’t expected this woman to notice though. She feels called out, laid bare, in front of who is essentially a stranger.

“Hmm,” Ichigo hums to herself before visibly choosing to drop it. “I guess it’s good you liked it though. I hope I like it too.”

They spend the rest of the time talking about Seireitei and how different it is to Rukongai. Rukia makes sure to point out restaurants and stores in the city that she thinks Ichigo might like. Gives her a little advice on the academy, which teachers to avoid, which supplemental classes are best. When it’s time to leave Rukia surprises herself by being reluctant to do so. Finds herself wishing she could spend more time in Ichigo’s company.

As she heads back to her division, sure to be accosted by Kaien for details, she vows to visit Ichigo again. Maybe Rukia can make a friend after all.

* * *

By four in the afternoon Ichigo is almost frantic with impatience. Kisuke still isn’t back with her sisters and she doesn’t even have anything to distract her from that fact. Rukia left hours ago, and so did Yoruichi, claiming she couldn’t take the whole day off from work just to entertain Ichigo. Ichigo isn’t allowed to leave the compound, not that she would because then she might miss the arrival of her sisters. She’s also not allowed to explore much either, passive faced servants appearing whenever she might get somewhere interesting.

Sulkily, she takes another bath at 2 in the afternoon, just because she can. The hot water is nice, and Ichigo enjoys going through all the various bottles and canisters and trying out their contents. She comes out of the bath with very soft skin and hair, trailing a cloud of scented air wherever she goes, but she’s not as relaxed as she hoped she would be.

Yoruichi dumped some sort of textbook on her before leaving. A Selected History of Soul Society, the title page reads. Presumably a required academy text. If Ichigo was smart she’d read it and get a heads up before entering the school, but when she tries she only gets two pages into the exceedingly dry text before she wants to dump it into the oddly koi-deprived koi pond in the courtyard.

When she complains of boredom to the servant Ichigo’s pretty sure is assigned to her, Aoi-san, she gets handed another book from Yoruichi. This one is a catalogue full of things like flower arrangements, wedding kimonos and incredibly fine sake cups. That one gets relegated to the same corner as the textbook. Although, Ichigo might have flipped through it briefly. For a moment or two. Certainly not more than five minutes.

Ichigo’s never considered her wedding. Not since arriving in Soul Society. If she thought about it as a human in the Transient World then she doesn’t remember now. She probably wasn’t married when she died at least. Doesn’t remember anyone that might have been a spouse. Plus, she doesn’t look that old, probably no more than eighteen or so when she died. As for after her arrival, no one in Aomatsu ever looked twice at Ichigo, and she certainly hadn’t looked at them, too busy caring for her sisters and just, generally uninterested.

When Kisuke arrived, Ichigo hadn’t been looking then either. But he just kept showing up. Being generous and competent and occasionally even funny. Ichigo might be proud, but she isn’t too proud to admit that the man is handsome too. Unusual coloring, broad shoulders, a height that makes Ichigo feel almost small, unusual when she’s as tall as most men.

While Ichigo thought they might eventually start something, she’d never considered marriage. And now here she is, being given wedding catalogues. A thing she didn’t even know existed.

Moodily Ichigo kicks a rock into the koi-less koi pond. She’s retreated to the courtyard, one of the areas the servants let her wander around without constantly appearing to ask if ‘Ichigo-sama’ needs something. It’s cool out here, but not as cold as it was in Aomatsu. Ichigo’s been given a red haori embroidered with white cranes to wear over her borrowed kimono. She doesn’t know what’s happened to her own clothes. When she asked Aoi-fan about them earlier she was brushed off with vague words about laundry but Ichigo has a feeling they just don’t want to give her back such poor looking garments.

At least she has her own shoes, she thinks. The bright red of her zori comforting against the grey stone of the courtyard as she taps around exploring. In one corner of the garden she finds something blooming, shocking in mid-December. As she’s considering whether or not she’ll be stabbed by the definitely knife carrying servants if she picks it, she feels the prickling of a familiar spiritual signature.

It’s Karin’s. And then after a moment she can feel the faint warmth of Yuzu as well. She rushes to the gates of the Shihoin compound, would have rushed through them if the guards hadn’t stopped her. Instead she’s left hopping from foot to foot, waiting for them to appear.

After what feels like eons but must only be a few seconds in reality, Kisuke lands outside the gateway, Karin and Yuzu each carried in an arm despite being too large to comfortably do so. Upon seeing Ichigo they both kick themselves free to run at her, calling her name.

The three of them slam together, Ichigo doing her best to fold herself around her younger sisters. She uses her borrowed haori to wrap them up, shielding them from the eyes of the world, even if those eyes are just Kisuke and the two Shihoin guards at the gate.

Yuzu’s openly crying and Karin is sniffing like she’s trying very hard not to tear up. Both of them have their arms wrapped around her, latching on hard.

“Sorry,” Ichigo tells them, voice soft. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She feels Yuzu shaking her head against Ichigo’s chest.

“We should get inside,” Kisuke says, trying not to be obtrusive but anxious. Looking up Ichigo sees him looking over his shoulder, out into the street beyond the gate. “They’ve had a long trip, and probably need rest and some food.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo says, drawing back. The girls release her reluctantly and Ichigo takes their hands in hers, tugging them to the house. Inside she hesitates, wanting the room she was in earlier with the couch but unsure of the way. “Do you know how to get to the sitting room with the couch?” she asks Kisuke as he undoes his sandals.

“Yes, this way.” He leads them to the room, pausing briefly to ask Aoi-san to send food from where she hovers unobtrusively in the hallway.

Once Ichigo and her sisters are ensconced on the couch, with Kisuke in the chair across from them, Ichigo gets her first good look at the man. He looks exhausted. Paler than usual with dark bags under his eyes. Ichigo wonders what it too for him to get both her sisters here, relatively comfortably.

“Thank you, for bringing them here,” she tells him. Her sisters have curled into her sides from where she sits between them on the couch.

“It was nothing,” Kisuke says, waving away her thanks.

“He carried us the entire way,” Yuzu mumbles. “And our stuff.” Indeed, he has sat a bag full of things onto the ground by the table. It’s not particularly large, probably only has their spare clothes and those few items they possess of sentimental value, but it would have been awkward to bring along with the girls. “We stopped a few times to rest, but I don’t think Urahara-san slept.”

“I was just keeping watch,” Kisuke tells them. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

The sisters share doubtful looks, but don’t pursue it as Aoi-san brings in a tray laden with food and tea. Ichigo swells with pride when the girls politely thank her. Karin immediately reaches for food while Yuzu busies herself pouring tea for all of them. Yuzu, with her relatively low reiryoku reserves, eats rarely and so isn’t as hungry as Karin is. Only after the girls have served themselves to their satisfaction does Kisuke help himself to the food.

“Ichi-nee-san,” Yuzu says, pulling on her sleeve for attention. Ichigo slides her eyes from Kisuke to Yuzu. She’s holding Ichigo’s lost hairpin, the little dangling strawberries still flawless. “We found this.”

“How… Yuzu, Karin, I lost this in the woods. I told you not to go in there alone,” Ichigo says, gently taking the pin from Yuzu. She’s happy to see it, relieved to have one of her most cherished possessions back. It fell out of her hair when she’d struggled uselessly against whatever magic that man used to bind her. But the woods are dangerous, even without Hollows running around. There’s bandits and animals and the risk of getting lost.

“You didn’t come home!” Karin protests loudly. “We didn’t know where you were! When we found the hairpin we thought…” Here she stops, eyes watering. She turns away, shoving a large bun into her mouth. Ichigo can fill in the blanks though. She’s told the girls before after all, that she’d always come back to them, that nothing could stop her. And then she didn’t come home.

She pulls Karin back into another hug, feeling Yuzu press up against her back.

“I’m sorry, if I could have come back, I would have.” She rubs her hand up and down Karin’s narrow back, feeling terrible. Ichigo is more than just their sister, she’s their protector too, their provider. The fear they must have felt along with the grief.

“That’s what Shinigami-san said,” Karin mutters into Ichigo’s shoulder. Ichigo breathes out through her nose, tensing despite herself. She’s been avoiding the matrimony shaped elephant in the room.

“What did he tell you about what happened?” Ichigo asks, pulling back. She smooths Karin’s hair from her face, and then turns to do the same to Yuzu. Both of them lean into her hands, seeking the affection. She doesn’t look at Kisuke, wanting the answer from her sisters.

“He said another Shinigami came by and made you go to Seireitei. That because they thought you broke some rules you were in trouble,” Yuzu says, voice low. “They wanted to put you in prison, but Urahara-san and his friend spoke up and now that won’t happen. He said you have to go to the academy though. And.. and he said that, he asked you to marry him, and now we’re going to live together and be a family.” She looks unsure of this, likely knowing that Ichigo wouldn’t agree to such a thing normally.

Ichigo looks to Kisuke, who looks back at her nervously, giving a little shrug. She can’t be mad that he lied to her sisters, telling them something kinder than the truth. If she tells them she’s being practically forced into this by, well just be unlucky circumstance really, then they’ll be upset. More upset than they are now. They won’t understand, they might even come to resent Kisuke on Ichigo’s behalf. That’s not what she wants for them.

“That’s… That’s right,” Ichigo tells them, tries to smile. “Me and Kisuke, we’re good friends after all, and we like each other’s company.” She can’t in all honesty tell her sisters she’s in love, because she isn’t, but she doesn’t know what else to say. She has, something, that might be affection for the man, but love? No, not that.

“You’re not doing this for us, are you?” Karin whispers to her, eyeing Kisuke suspiciously. She’s always been more hesitant with Kisuke than Yuzu who took to his presence with both equanimity and a strange knowing air.

“No,” Ichigo says, happy she can be honest with this. “Kisuke knows I wouldn’t leave you behind and so he’s going to make a place for all of us, but I’m not doing it because of you two, okay? Don’t worry about that.”

Neither of them appear quite convinced but they don’t question her anymore.

“So, you’re gonna get married?” Yuzu asks, eyes taking on a gleam.

“Yeah, in a couple weeks.”

“A couple weeks?!” Yuzu nearly upsets her cup of tea whirling around to stare at Ichigo. “I can’t have your wedding kimono ready in two weeks!”

“What,” Ichigo asks, blinking.

“I was going to make your kimono,” Yuzu moans. “Two weeks is too soon, absolutely not. You’ll have to get married later.”

“Ah, I’m afraid that’s not really possible,” Kisuke pipes up, quailing a bit when Yuzu turns her thunderous expression to him. “It needs to happen before she joins the academy.”

“Why? Can’t you do it after she joins,” Karin asks, looking distrustful.

“Well, the thing is, if she marries me before joining the academy it means she won’t have to stay in the dorms during weekends. She’ll be able to visit us regularly,” he explains rather calmly.

“Yes,” Ichigo agrees even if she has no idea if this is true. “So, see, it’s a bit rushed, but there’s a good reason. Don’t worry though, Kisuke’s friend Yoruichi is gonna help with the wedding. I think.”

“Is that who’s house this is? No way it belongs to him,” Karin points rudely at Kisuke with her thumb. Yuzu still looks near despondent over not being able to make Ichigo’s wedding kimono herself.

“Yes, it belongs to my very good friend, Shihoin Yoruichi. I live at my division for now, but we’ll find a house we all like soon,” Kisuke tells them, smiling brightly, trying to get them excited about the idea of a house.

“You don’t even have a house?” Karin says, aghast. “You asked nee-chan to marry you when you’re homeless?”

“I wouldn’t say homeless…” Kisuke mutters, looking put out at the accusation. “It’s perfectly normal for captains to sleep at their divisions when they aren’t married.”

“Yeah, sure,” Karin says, rolling her eyes in that way that only pre-teens have mastered. Ichigo laughs, realizing it’s the first time she’s done so in days.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says, hugging her sisters again. “Everything’s going to be okay, you know?”

“Of course,” says Yuzu, hugging her back. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Exactly,” Ichigo replies, taking a slightly shaky breath, squeezing tight. “Why wouldn’t it be.”

Neither of her sisters look convinced, but sharing a look between themselves, they drop it, letting the matter lie for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow the longest chapter yet at almost 7k words? ??? 
> 
> Guys, I really do like Rukia and I love Rukia and Ichigo's friendship. I want some of that here.
> 
> An ever present reminder that your comments really do encourage my writing and mean the world to me. 
> 
> Also, I guess, if you haven't seen it I've posted a Uraichi oneshot [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28450167).
> 
> (Also if you want to like, chat at me about my fic or stuff, you can message me on discord at El#3355)


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